My Best Friend's Hot!
by CJ.xox.Dancerella
Summary: Life at university is confusing enough when you're not madly in love with your best friend. For Troy and Gabi, it's doubly frustrating. Will they finally confess their feelings before things get even more complicated? TxG Cowrite zacharyteflonforpresident
1. Homicidal Heels

"_**My Best Friend's Hot!" **_**copyright © CJ.xox.Dancerella and zacharyteflonforpresident. July 12th 2008.**

**This is a derivate piece of fiction featuring characters copyrighted and trademarked by Disney Enterprises Inc. It is based upon **_**High School Musical, **_**copyright 2006 by Walt Disney Enterprises Inc., all rights reserved; and **_**High School Musical 2, **_**copyright 2007 by Walt Disney Enterprises Inc., all rights reserved. The authors are not connected with nor is this work authorised by Walt Disney Enterprises Inc., or any other motion picture studios. This work is solely intended for posting on Fanfiction, for the benefit and enjoyment of its intended audience. No commercial or financial benefit accrues or is intended to accrue to the author as a result of said posting. Any unauthorised copying or redistribution of this work might subject the party responsible for such unauthorized copying or redistribution to legal action by the owners of the aforementioned copyrights and trademarks.**

**TITLE: **My Best Friend's Hot!

**AUTHOR: **Jessa (zacharyteflonforpresident) and Kylie (nickname Charli...CJ.xox.Dancerella)

**RATING:** M

**FEEDBACK: **Go ahead, make us squee!

**DISCLAIMER:** Troy, Gabriella and East High do not belong to us. We know that, you know that and we hope Disney knows that too so we don't get sued for all our non-money...

**PAIRING/CHARACTERS:** Troy, Gabriella and the usual Wildcat gang.

**SUMMARY: **Life at university is confusing enough when you're not madly in love with your best friend. For Troy and Gabi, it's doubly frustrating. Will they finally confess their feelings before things get even more complicated?

**Yo, yo, yo! Kylie (aka Charli...nickname, long story) and Jessa IN DA HOOOOUSE! In light of all the HSM3-y goodness that has been floating around recently, we are extremely excited, hyper and all 'round squeey...and would like to officially welcome you to the PREMIERE of our BRAND NEW STORY! We have had a blast writing it so far, and hope that you will enjoy reading it as much as we have enjoyed spending hours (and a lot of laughs) over the past couple of months plotting it out and writing it! Huge thanks to our awesome beta, advisor and all 'round awesome one Holly (claps, cheers, whoops) for her words of wisdom on this one. This PREMIERE CHAPTER goes out to you, girl!**

**JEEESSAAA!! GIMME BACK MY KEYBOARD!! Ok, ok...Jess wants a turn...Ahem...**

**Holla to everyone who has faved Kylie as an author! As I'm sure you've realized by now, my partner in Troyella-like crime and I have decided to piece together a co-write. We're extremely and pathetically excited to finally be posting it here on after months and months (okay, more like two months) of planning and slaving over our keyboards. With this and all the HSM3 stuff that's surfaced as of late, our heads just might explode from the fangirly joy! Until that happens, we hope you enjoy the fic as much as we enjoy writing it! Love, Jessa.**

**Ok, so without further ado...this is Kylie and Jessa, signing off and leaving you with the first chapter of what we hope will become one of your new favourite fics :p**

**Peace, love and all that jazz,**

**Team KJ!**

* * *

**Chapter One: Homicidal Heels**

Do you know what it's like to want someone so much that you're an inch away from banging your head on the wall just so you can stop thinking about them? When - somewhere in the back of your mind - you're always wondering where they are, what they're doing and whether or not they're thinking about you. That was the story of my life, and had been every day since junior year of high school. Three years of nothing but Troy Bolton - all day, every day. It was enough to drive anyone mental. And yet it was impossible to stop. He was like some crazy, blue-eyed drug. A drug that I had found myself completely and utterly addicted to.

Too bad he had no idea just how pathetic I was.

You see, Troy and I were just friends. Okay. We were _best_ friends. Full out, no holds barred, tell-each-other-everything, together 24/7, best friends. So you can see why my situation was problematic. I was around him all the time but I could never tell him how I felt. He probably would've freaked out and never have wanted to speak to his secret stalker again and he was just way too important to me for that kind of risk-taking.

And so there I was, stuck in limbo - in his life but never in the way I wanted to be. Don't get me wrong - being his friend was amazing, but every time he laughed, whenever he touched me, I got butterflies. I wanted to be just that little bit closer to him. I ached to hold his hand and snicker to myself about how jealous all the girls in my science lab were when he walked me to class and kissed me goodbye.

I think I loved him from the moment I saw him, which in retrospect sounds hideously clichéd, but there's no other way to describe that feeling that swallowed me whole when he started singing karaoke that New Years Eve. (Yup, we met through karaoke. It's like some messed up fairytale, minus the happy ending.) Suddenly, I wasn't afraid anymore. Just knowing that he was next to me, even though I didn't know his name, I felt as though I could do anything. The feeling only grew stronger when I actually got to know him.

There are a couple of things you should know about Troy Bolton so you can understand how someone could obsess over him so much - and trust me; I'm not the only one who has ever done so. Firstly, he's incredibly good looking. I mean, the kind of good looking you spot in the mall that causes you to smack into store shelving and trip over small children because you can't tear your eyes away. Just a mental image of his long, muscular body, tanned skin, sexy crooked smile and clear blue eyes makes a girl weak in the knees. And by "a girl", I meant to say "me".

Secondly, and this is the cherry on top of being one of the hottest guys I'd ever laid eyes on, he is a complete sweetheart. So nice it made you consider sacrificing your weekends to help take care of impoverished orphans (which I kind of already did anyways) so you didn't seem like a total jerk in comparison. I know; I didn't think the two could co-exist either, but apparently somebody somewhere broke a few rules when they created Troy. He always knew what to say to cheer someone up, he didn't judge people, and he had a habit of making me laugh so hard that I turned purple (slightly counter-productive in the wanting him to find me attractive scenario). I could literally go on all day.

Troy Bolton: hot, funny, smart, nice. It just wasn't fair to the rest of the guys in the world. Are you starting to get why I run endlessly on about him? I thought so.

I started to panic when we began university because I realized just how many girls there were there. Most of them were older, more mature, more experienced and more glamorous that Troy's geeky best friend. No wonder he didn't look twice at me in my blue jeans and girly shirts when there were hundreds of tall blondes in high heeled boots and sophisticated black-framed glasses walking around campus. I told myself that they'd never read any of the books that they were lugging around and it helped with the sinking feeling... for a few seconds. After that, being that I was my own worst enemy, I felt bad for making assumptions.

So far - thank God! - none of those girls had caught my best friend's eye. I had no idea what I was going to do when that day came. Luckily for me, Sharpay and Taylor had enough ideas for five situations just like mine. That night, according to my two supposed best friends, I would be stepping up my game. With their fashion and dating expertise at my disposal, how could I lose? Being Gabriella Montez, obviously I found a way.

"He won't be able to tear his eyes away from you tonight," Taylor assured me as she slowly slid a straightener through my long dark hair. The three of us were in my new dorm room, preparing ourselves for a night out to celebrate the fact that a gruelling day moving our belongings back to campus was over. Soon all of us would be starting our second year of university and the time for fun and games would be over for another semester of hardcore studying.

Fairly eager to steer the topic away from a certain drop dead gorgeous, blue eyed best friend of mine, I completely ignored that statement.

"Danielle seems nice," I commented instead, referring to Taylor's new roommate, who we had met earlier that morning.

"Yeah she does," Taylor replied. "Mia seems like a pretty cool chick too, Shar."

"Oh please," Sharpay huffed. "With a name that means 'mine'...she'll be a selfish cow for sure."

Taylor and I exchanged a smirk. After having the luxury of her own room in our first year of college, this year she was going to be sharing for the first time. And she was NOT impressed. After growing up with just Ryan to boss around, the thought of having to cohabitate - to _cooperate_ - with someone else...she wasn't taking it well.

"I wonder what your new roomie will be like, Gabs," Taylor wondered as she suffocated me with hairspray. The girl I was to be sharing with this year had not yet arrived on campus – apparently her flight from LA had been delayed, and she would be making her appearance later that night.

I groaned. "Knowing my luck, she'll be some hairy chick named Flavia who never learned the pros of basic hygiene."

Taylor laughed and Sharpay scoffed at my comment, as she got to work on my makeup. No words needed to be exchanged to remind me of the insanity that called herself my roommate last year. Her name was Llewellyn – Lulu for short. She was six foot three, with fuzzy red hair that never failed to look like she had been dragged through a hedge backwards, and a voice that sounded like she had swallowed a cheese grater. She didn't believe in waxing or shaving, thought that wearing copious amounts of bright blue eye shadow was actually attractive, and hung her underwear over the backs of all the chairs in our room to dry... on the rare occasion she actually washed it, that was.

"Ouch! Gently please, Shar!" I was snapped from my horrific nostalgia trip when the blonde, over stimulated by the music blaring from my stereo, the tub of ice cream we'd polished off and the excitement of a 'long overdue' makeover, accidently jabbed me in the eye with a mascara wand. She barely batted an eyelid, continuing work on her self-proclaimed masterpiece, more commonly known as my face.

"Beauty is pain, darling," she flippantly offered.

There really was no arguing with the girl, especially on the subject of glamour, so I settled for some inaudible grumbling as I watched Taylor root through my meticulously organized closet, tossing garments onto my bed every so often. In all honesty, I didn't understand how girls could go through all this crap every time they went out somewhere. It was an opinion that I didn't dare voice aloud because it would surely insight more, less accidental, mascara-related injuries.

"Seriously, Gabs," Taylor sighed while she poked through the pile she had made next to me. "Do you own anything that isn't pastel colored or frilly? We're going for sexy here."

"In case you haven't noticed, Tay. I don't really do sexy," I retorted defensively. If it weren't for my sad Troy obsession, I wouldn't have let her anywhere near my wardrobe. I made a mental note to mention my sacrifice to him right after he swept me off my feet, and just before we lived happily ever after.

Sharpay chose that point to interject, taking a step back as she did so to admire her handiwork. A devilish smirk blossomed on her lips; it was incredibly frightening.

"Correction, dollface - you _didn't_ do sexy... until now."

Taylor slipped into position next to her, a similar expression - though _slightly_ less scary - on her face.

"Well done, Shar," she said. A low five was given to commend the blonde for her efforts. "Now all we need is the perfect outfit to bring that blue-eyed hunk of man to his knees."

Twenty minutes and twelve clothing changes later, the pair of them were finally satisfied. I felt like a life-sized Barbie, strapped into a tiny black dress that Taylor, who anticipated an outfit emergency, had brought along. It warmed my heart to learn of her faith in my fashion sense.

The dress was fairly simple - satin with a sweetheart neckline and halter straps, the hemline hitting mid-thigh. The only problem was how snugly it fit me because a) I had always been highly uncomfortable with flaunting myself so blatantly and b) it made simple tasks like walking and sitting a million times more difficult.

"Daaamn girl," Taylor drawled, awestruck, when I teetered out of the bathroom in not only the dress but also ridiculous four inch heels that further hindered my movement, making me feel somewhat like a retarded flamingo. "Where have you been hiding those curves!?"

"In clothing fit for a twelve year old," Sharpay replied before I could open my mouth. I chose to ignore her, instead turning to finally catch the full effect of my makeover in the mirror. The person staring back at me was barely recognizable. With tousled curls and smoky eye make-up, I looked like a full on sex kitten, prepared for a night on the prowl.

"Whoa," I breathed. I could see the girls exchange knowing looks in the mirror before they both lunged, hugging me tightly from behind.

Taylor squealed loudly, a tad too close to my ear. "You're gonna knock him dead!"

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I cursed as I rummaged through my wardrobe. It was like that stupid cupboard was suddenly void of anything that made me look remotely decent. Why couldn't I have realised the week _before_ that I owned nothing besides basketball shorts and training gear? Why was it always at the most inopportune times – like when I had approximately seventeen minutes to make myself look at least semi-presentable and get my arse to The Victory, where us guys were supposed to meeting the girls for a night of hard partying – that revelation's such as these chose to present themselves?

"Freaking Murphy's Law," I grumbled to myself as I pulled a pair of stone-wash dark denim jeans off the nearest hanger. They were clean. At that moment in time, I really couldn't ask for much more.

Digging deeper into the closet, I came across two button-down dress shirts.

"Great," I sighed. First I had nothing to wear and now I had to try and decide between the blue or the white.

Blue.

White.

Blue...

White...

Bluuuueeee...

Whiiiiittteee...

Gabriella was always telling me I looked good in blue.

I went with the blue.

Aaahh, Gabriella Montez. My Ella. Even the mere thought of her name sent a tingle down my spine. I'm pretty sure I loved her from the moment I met her at that Ski Lodge in junior year. I gave up trying to convince myself otherwise a long time ago. I was just driving myself insane... even more insane than I went every time she was near me and all I could think about is how much I wanted to kiss her right on the lips... Mmm, those luscious, pi...

Wait, where were we?

Oh, right. My relationship with Gabriella. I was crazy about the girl – plain and simple. What sucked was that she had absolutely no idea how I felt. I couldn't tell her – our friendship meant the world to me and I just couldn't put that on the line.

If I lost Ella, I'd have been losing my everything.

Oh man, I was sooo whipped. And she wasn't even my girlfriend.

God help me.

My life was like a really bad episode of The Bold and the Beautiful.

And before you tell me every episode of The Bold and the Beautiful is bad, I know. That's the point.

Anyway, back to the situation at hand. I heard footsteps outside my room before the door opened and Chad appeared, just as I was hurriedly raking some product through my hair.

"Hey man!" he grinned, clapping me on the back so hard that I stumbled forward, my forehead only a hairs breath away from smacking against the mirror. How I had known Chad since pre-school and managed to not murder him with my bare hands was beyond me. "Oooh," he commented with a smirk. That wasn't a good sign... I could have guessed what was coming next. "You're looking devilishly handsome tonight, my friend. Trying to impress a certain... curly haired brunette are we?"

"Chad, do you even know what 'devilishly' means?" I mocked.

Chad faked hurt. "You cut me deep, man. You cut me real deep. Here I am, trying to compliment my dearest friend in the entire world on his devilish handsomeness... and all you do is tear me down. I'm hurt. I bet you don't insult _Ella_ like that..."

I glared at him. I was the only one allowed to call her Ella. Chad sighed. "Ok, ok, enough with the Gabriella mentions – I get it. You're crazy in love with the girl, but no one can say it aloud. God forbid the world's worst-kept-secret is confirmed!"

I grabbed my wallet and cell phone and glanced quickly in the mirror before heading towards the door. "We're going to be late," I said simply, Chad rolling his eyes as he trudged after me.

Trouble was, he had hit the nail right on the head – the guys all knew how I felt about Ella. Apparently it was glaringly obvious to everyone except her. But if any of them mentioned it out loud... well, let's just say I made sure they were left with no doubt that if they ever brought it up again, they would not be fathering children in their lifetime.

Seemed I wasn't very convincing as a bully, though, because they mocked me about my little 'crush' every opportunity they had.

Their jokes seemed to go right over Gabriella's head, though, and her friendship with me remained as just that – a friendship. Sure, it was the best friendship I could ever have asked for – we were closer than I had ever been to anyone in my entire life, and could tell each other anything – but I wanted it to be so much more. Sadly, I knew that could never happen. Some guy would be very lucky to have her one day.

But even though the thought of someone else's arms being around MY Ella made me feel violently ill – even worse than the time Chad and I ate some left over Quesadilla's we found in his refrigerator.

Apparently it's not a good idea to reheat sausage, cheese and mushroom after it has been sitting in the fridge for a week... Who would've thought?

Dodgy Quesadilla's aside – I was so nervous as Chad and I headed over to pick up Zeke. I knew deep down that my nerves were Gabriella related, but I couldn't understand why they were so apparent that night. How was that night out going to be any different from any of the other hundred times a day I spoke to, looked at or thought about her?

Her gorgeous chocolate curls, her beautiful big brown eyes, her perfect figu...

Yeah, ok, I know – I was in serious trouble.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I asked the girls as we walked - or in my case were practically carried - up to the club doors. It was crawling with people intent on a night of drinking and dancing.

Sharpay gave me the evil eye. "Ask us that one more time and you'll be spending the night at the hospital while I hook Troy up with someone else," she muttered. My stomach lurched dangerously at the thought of Troy with another girl.

"Do you really think he'd go for someone else?" I demanded, panicking. "Oh God, he doesn't like me! Why would you guys lie to me like that!?" Taylor grabbed my shoulders, steadying me and putting a hasty halt to my rant.

"Chill, girl. He likes you. More than likes! So quit freaking out. This is a _great_ idea," she reassured me gently.

"Taylor's right. Now take your fake I.D. and let the fun begin!"

Sharpay shoved a piece of plastic that turned out to be the I.D. belonging to someone named Marissa Legume into my unsuspecting hands. The picture bore a striking resemblance to me, or what I may have looked like when I wasn't wearing quite so much eye shadow.

"A fake I.D.!?" I choked. As if I hadn't been nervous enough about my impending rejection, now I had to worry about becoming a felon _and_ having a last name that meant "vegetable" in French on top of it? A girl could only take so much stress.

Sharpay rolled her eyes and said, in a rather rude tone of voice, "How else did you expect to get in?" I could tell I had already tapped her miniscule reserve of patience.

"B-but..." I stammered, staring at the card I held in my shaking hands.

Taylor - that evil, evil girl - knew just what to say to get me onboard. "You want to wow Troy, don't you?" I nodded like a puppet; a slave to my stupid crush. "Well, this is your chance!"

Finally, I gave in, clutching Tay's arm as I felt my ankles wobble. I could only imagine how amazingly sexy my inability to walk made me look. The way Sharpay glided along in her own shoes made me want to strangle her, seeing that it was only because of her stubbornness that I was wearing high heels at all. My poor feet had been spoiled by years of flats and sneakers.

"Would you two get a move on?" the Ice Queen, as she had been dubbed by Chad in kindergarten when she made him cry on the first day, called over her shoulder. She thrust her fake I.D. straight into the hands of the bouncer without so much as a second thought. I, on the other hand, nearly fainted when he took several seconds to glance between my face and the I.D. Sharpay had given me. Taylor pulled me into the club by the hand once we got the go-ahead from the bouncer.

Laughing, she said, "Way to act natural, Gabs!"

"Yes, wearing heels I'd rather eat then walk around in and breaking the law. Completely natural," I replied with an unusual amount of sarcasm that Taylor seemed annoyingly immune to.

Sharpay - what a surprise - didn't seem to be aware of anything that didn't directly involve her. "Let's dance!" she squealed, eyeing the crowd on the dance floor as we ventured further and further into the club.

I was about to protest - I was sure I would have been a health hazard to anyone within ten feet if I attempted to dance - but then something, or rather some_one_, familiar caught my eye. Troy Bolton was across the club, just coming through the door with Chad and Zeke at his side. He was wearing blue, my absolute favorite color on him, and looking good enough to eat. His easy, confident stride took my breath away and I'll admit it - my mind did that thing where it turns everything to slow motion and plays a cheesy pop song in the background.

"Yeah," I said. "Let's go."

And that, right there, is when all the trouble started. Instead of Troy's first glimpse consisting of me shaking my thing on the dance floor, he got to witness my supreme, and totally embarrassing, klutziness. In my hurry to put Operation Sex Kitty (Sharpay's words, not mine) into action, I forgot about my lovely homicidal heels. The second I took a step, my ankle rolled - quite excruciatingly, I might add - to the side. Off balance, I fell backwards and set off a chain reaction of **certain death**.

Tay reacted instantly, reaching out to break my fall, and ended up backing into a man with a huge tray of drinks balanced in his hands. Because the higher powers so clearly love me, every drink on that tray, and that included an insanely large pitcher of beer, flew into the air and landed directly on Sharpay. The four of us - innocent tray-baring bystander included - froze in place as we waited for the initial shock to pass us by.

Sharpay was the first to recover, emitting a blood-curdling shriek that had half the club looking our way. Taylor slowly lifted me back onto my feet, inching me along as if she feared that any sudden movements would somehow prematurely bring forth Armageddon. I immediately set to work, un-strapping my feet from the monstrosities that had started it all, well aware of the fact that the next few moments of my life may very well have been my last.

Even the man who had just lost about 50 bucks worth of alcohol seemed to sense that it was wise to get out of dodge before Shar went berserk. Unfortunately, I didn't have that option. Her wild amber eyes were trained solely on me as the stench of the beer that was dripping from ends of her hair and the hem of her dress hit my nostrils.

"Oops?" I tried sheepishly, mentally scrambling for a battle strategy.

"This... is a... one of... a kind... designer... piece..." Sharpay ground out, panting and towering over me like some hideous, shadowy creature from a dark lagoon... only scarier.

My apology died on my lips as, without averting her fiery gaze for even a split second, she grabbed a pitcher of beer from another passing tray.

All I could do was run.

I was way too young to die.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

My heart was pounding in my chest as I shuffled up the queue at The Victory, Chad and Zeke on either side of me. I was pretty sure if it started beating any harder it would leap out of my chest and tap-dance along the sidewalk of its own accord.

I placed a hand on my chest, above where my heart was belting out its own drum solo, hoping to slow it - even a little. My head was starting to spin from the erratic rhythm and if it went on much longer I was convinced I would pass out. I hoped that I could remain conscious long enough to at least set my eyes on Gabriella...and maybe even keep breathing long enough to say 'hi'.

I glanced down at the fake I.D. Chad shoved at me, wondering vaguely if 'Cedric Douchenberry' minded that someone was stealing... err... _borrowing_... his identity. Although – looking back – with a name like that, I highly doubt it.

We finally made it into the club – a small miracle in itself after the stunt Chad pulled. He was clearly anxious about being sprung with a fake I.D, and interpreted the bored look the bouncer gave him as a suspicious one. He chuckled nervously before exclaiming loudly, "Uh...yeah – that was me before I was hot!"

Smooth Chad. Real smooth.

We walked through the doors into the smoky club, squinting slightly as our eyes adjusted. My hands were shaking and my palms were sweaty as I craned my neck, scanning the crowded dance floor for any sign of that gorgeous brunette who could take my bre...

I was snapped out of my thoughts as Zeke whacked me across the back of the head. Apparently he was getting rather good at reading me.

The blow to my skull seemed to do me some good, however, as I forgot my antsiness and focused instead on coming up with the most creative way to inflict a slow and painful death on Zeke.

It was around three minutes later – when I was feeling quite smug, having finally settled on hog-tying him in the middle of a desert and covering him in honey, leaving him to be devoured by whichever weird and wonderful insect decided he looked tasty - that I saw her.  
Gabriella Montez in all her radiant beauty.

She looked incredible. Slightly uncomfortable and sporting a rather awkward gait, which I assumed I could attribute to the fact she was trying to teeter along in at least four inches of heels, but incredible all the same.

"Dude, there's the girls," I heard Chad comment somewhere to my left, but I couldn't tear my eyes off of Ella – she looked _hot_.

Her eyes suddenly caught mine, and she said something to the girls before taking a step in my direction. Well, I could only guess that she was headed in my direction. Or at least the general direction in which the guys and I were standing. I may never know where Gabriella was actually heading that night.

Sharpay and Taylor had made a fatal error earlier that evening when they had forced Ella's feet into a pair of cruel and ruthless torture implements more commonly known as stilettos. As two of her closest friends, they should probably have realised there was a good reason they rarely saw her in heels.

As much as I love Gabriella, I know deep down there is no denying she is a klutz with a capital K-L-U-T-Z. Of course I would never admit that to her face. God help me, I wouldn't have had it any other way. Most of the time - when it wasn't making her life hell - I found it completely adorable.

The hundred or so other club-going patrons, however, were about to be acquainted with Gabriella's inner disaster and they weren't going to find it quite as endearing.

With that first, fatal step, Ella started World War Three before I even had time to blink. The guys and I looked on, frozen, as her ankle rolled in those death traps Sharpay called shoes, and she fell. Thankfully, Taylor caught her before she hit the floor, but not soon enough to stop her from knocking into a guy carrying a tray full of drinks.

Now I'm no math whiz, but I'd say that a pitcher of beer hurtling through the air in a crowded night club has about a one in one hundred chance of landing directly on Sharpay.

Well... she always liked to be unique.

Her piercing shriek could be heard over the music, and my first instinct was to race over there, grab Ella, throw her over my shoulder and high-tail it out of there.

I honestly feared for her life. I think I was even more scared than the time my Mom told me if my room wasn't clean by the time she got home from work, she'd tie me to the couch, prop my eyes open with matchsticks, and make me watch the video of my birth... over, and over... and over.

I tried to move but couldn't – Chad and Zeke were holding me back. They later told me they had saved me from launching myself on a kamikaze mission.

They're so melodramatic.

While Sharpay was busy screeching at my poor Ella about 'one of a kind designer pieces', Taylor was the first of the girls to spot the burly security guard heading towards the scene. Sharpay had managed to procure a fresh pitcher of beer, and Gabriella backed up quickly before turning on her heel only to slam straight into six feet and two hundred and fifty pounds of incredibly pissed off bouncer.

I watched helplessly as she stared at the massive chest in front of her, her eyes slowly rising until they met the dark, angry eyes of the guard.

"You... you... and you..." he said in a dangerously low voice, pointing his finger at Gabriella, Taylor and Sharpay – who was still clutching the pitcher in mid air."Out. Now."

"Ooooh no – no, no, no, no, no," I heard Sharpay protest. "Not until REVENGE IS MINE!"

I may be biased, but what happened next was definitely an unfair attack on Ella. Yes, she may have ruined Sharpay's one of a kind designer dress, but she was completely defenceless – still staring up at the bouncer, her knees shaking – as the pitcher of beer Sharpay had been holding seconds earlier ended up dumped over her head from behind.

Gabriella blinked in shock, but had no time to react as two more security guards appeared either side of the first.

You know, I had a feeling that whole day that there would be something different about that night.

Secretly, I hoped that it was some sort of foresight that Gabriella was going to melt into my arms on the dance floor, and proclaim her undying love for me.

What I didn't count on was arriving at the club, only to watch a beer-drenched Gabriella being manhandled out the door approximately six minutes after my arrival, by three bouncers holding grudges against the world yelling something about 'disturbing the peace'.

Sigh.

I guess my sixth sense needed a major tune up.

* * *

**Sooo, there you have it! Chapter one of our brand new story! What did you think? Love it? Hate it? Let us know! **

**Up next: The fallout from the catastrophic events of Club!Catastrophe! and meet Gabriella's new roommate!**

**Stay tuned, stay cool, and leave us some love!**

**Kylie and Jessa **

**xox**


	2. The Condition

**Okay... chapter two. It's finally here! We wanna start off by thanking everyone who read - but more so those who bothered to review - the first chapter. You guys all deserve a chocolate covered Troy... but we're too greedy to share so all you get is another chapter. Sorry!**

**We won't hold you up for any longer, apart from saying we hope you enjoy the aftermath of those homicidal heels, sending a huge thanks to Holly and all her beta-ing fabulousness, and informing you all that the K half of team KJ is completely and utterly miserably sick with the flu, and reviews are better than any medicine (wink wink).**

**Thanks again for the awesome response to chapter one! Catch you on the flipside,**

**Team KJ! (aka Kylie and Jessa)**

* * *

**Chapter Two: The Condition**

You have to feel kinda sorry for Taylor. The walk home must have felt like it lasted an eternity for her: my patient, sweet, mediating best friend.

She somehow managed to hold Sharpay and I at an arm's length from each other for the majority of the walk, ignoring our shrieks of protest, and pulling Sharpay away when she managed to duck under Taylor's arm and grab a fistful of my hair.

We were still screaming at each other when we arrived back on campus – Sharpay was just pissed that I had ruined her dress, but I was mortified that I had been thrown out of a nightclub... in front of The Hotness, aka Troy Bolton.

"There is no way this can be salvaged," Sharpay wailed dramatically. "You and your god damned issues with walking in a fucking straight line!"

"I TRIED to tell you it was a mistake to make me wear heels," I screeched. "Now, thanks to you, we not only got our asses hauled out of a club, but it happened IN FRONT OF TROY!"

"Oh, boo hoo," Sharpay spat back. "If you two would just get over yourselves and have sex already, I wouldn't have had to bother trying to make your retarded feet look hot, and maybe then I wouldn't have to throw out a five HUNDRED dollar dress! This is ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"Urgh!" I groaned in frustration, Taylor rolling her eyes as she continued to drag us along the pavement. "You probably have seven more just like it, Shar. God! Get over it! I'm never going to be able to look Troy in the eye again – MY LIFE IS OVER!"

Both of us froze – clutching our cheeks as we felt a sudden sharp sting.

"TAYLOR!" we screamed in unison.

"Will you two just quit it? For Christ's sake, you sound like a couple of twelve year olds! Now, if you don't shut up – the both of you – Shar, I will tell Zeke that you took secret pictures of him baking that you keep under your pillow, and Gabi, I will tell Troy _exactly_ what you said about him in your sleep last weekend."

"You wouldn't..." we both whispered, glaring at her.

"Oh, you just try me," Taylor replied.

Sharpay and I looked at each other before glaring back at Taylor. In sync, we took a step towards her, our expressions venomous. Taylor just stood there, hands on her hips, biting somewhat nervously at her bottom lip.

After Shar and I took another step, Taylor sensed the danger. She backed up quickly, pulling her heels off her feet before turning and taking off, quick as a flash.

"Get back here!" Sharpay screeched, as the two of us high tailed it after Taylor, through the campus gates and towards our dorm building.

Taylor reached the heavy front doors ahead of us, and pushed them open, sprinting towards the stairs. I overtook Sharpay and shoved my way through the doors, gaining on Taylor as she took the stairs two at a time. She was heading towards the door of my dorm, pulling out my keys – which I had stashed in her handbag at the start of the night for safe keeping – and fumbling with the lock.

She was just turning the handle when Sharpay crash tackled me from behind, sending me hurtling forward into Taylor, the three of us crashing through the now open door and landing in a tangled, smelling-like-beer heap on the floor of my room.

I felt Sharpay's nails digging into my back, and I'm pretty sure I got Taylor in the ribs with my knee as we all struggled to get off of each other. My hair was a knotted, sticky mess and as I pushed it back out of my eyes, I suddenly noticed that we weren't alone.

Poking the other two girls sharply, I looked up from my spot on the floor towards the bed, where an attractive blond haired girl with stunning green eyes was perched, watching the three of us with a bemused expression on her face.

"Uhh... hi?" I offered lamely, blowing more beer-drenched curls out of my eyes.

"Hey," the girl replied with a small wave. "I'm Chelsea Fitzpatrick."

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

I was sulking. Pouted lips, crossed arms - the whole shebang. There was no other, perhaps manlier, way of putting it. The night, one I'd been hoping would hold all sorts of wonderful Gabriella-like possibilities, was now ruined. All thanks to Sharpay and her need to overreact. As if she didn't have the exact same dress as the one Ella had **accidentally** ruined in about a hundred different shades of pink.

On top of my dreams of Gabriella spontaneously deciding that we were meant to be together forever being dashed against the rocks, I also had to worry about what was happening to my poor girl right then, without three huge bouncers to keep Malibu Barbie - now with new psycho killer action! - off her.

Chad, Zeke and I had found a table after the spectacle of our girls being thrown out had come to an epic conclusion. It was all I could do not to run out the door after them, ready to risk life and limb and slay the blond-headed dragon, rescuing a gorgeous - albeit slightly damp - damsel. Unattractive images of what Taylor was now most certainly dealing with popped into my head as I planned my escape. I had to make sure that witch hadn't stabbed Ella with her hot pink stiletto.

"Troy. Troy!"

Chad snapped his fingers in front of my face, finally grabbing my wandering focus.

"Yeah?" I replied, slightly annoyed that my train of thought had been interrupted.

Zeke and Chad exchanged a very irritating look, one that said they knew the exact destination of said train of thought, before Zeke asked, "Do you wanna stay or go, man? The night is kind of moot for me without Shar here."

"That girl's got you wrapped around her talon," Chad muttered, rolling his eyes in the process. There're plenty of good lookin' ladies here. We could still get our party on!" He bounced in his seat, doing what I could only assume was his own sad version of dancing. Under Zeke's glare, he shrank in his seat, his 'dance moves' thankfully coming to a halt as quickly as they had started.

"I'll take that as a no vote from Chef Boyardee. What about you, Hoops? You're young, single and moderately attractive. I'm there's some half-blind girl around here that would have you..."

And he had been my best friend for so long because?

"As tempting as you make it sound," I said dryly. "I've gotta go with Zeke on this one. No girls equals no fun."

"You mean 'no Gabriella equals no fun'," Zeke interjected with a smirk.

My eyes narrowed, causing him to whistle innocently as he suddenly seemed to find the other side of the room so very interesting. "And I was on your side, you asshole."

"Oh, you two love sick puppies suck," Chad complained as he slumped in his seat, looking more like a toddler then a twenty year old man.

"I'm not a love sick puppy," I protested weakly, knowing full well that the guys wouldn't buy one second of that crap.

With a sigh, Chad backpedalled. "Love sick mountain lion then. Is that better, princess?"

Arguing was futile, as if I could really scrape together a valid defence in the first place. Love sick as exactly the right term for me. In fact, one glance at a dictionary under "love sick" and boom! - there would be my name in bold print. At least Zeke was going out with Sharpay. He had an excuse for not wanting to stick around and have what some people might consider a good time. Me? I had zilch. Then again, no one in their right mind would even think about dancing with another girl while dating Sharpay. Somehow - using her evil powers of EVIL - that girl would know and then it would be game over for her ickle Zekey Muffin.

"Whatever, dude," I responded at length, propping my chin up on one hand.

"Ah, such a compelling comeback. Really, Troy, where _do_ you get them?"

Luckily, Zeke was there in a pinch to save me the headache of procuring a reply that actually had some bite. "Come on, Chad. You know Taylor would kick your ass if you stayed here without her while she dealt with the aftermath of that lovely little incident."

I watched with smug satisfaction as Chad's face blanched while he pictured the beating - both physical and verbal, probably simultaneously - that his girlfriend would deliver if she got wind of Chad's apathy towards the mess she'd been stuck with. Grinning evilly, I made a noise, accompanied by the correct hand gesture, like a cracking whip.

Both Chad and Zeke stared at me, their eyebrows raised in almost identical signs of incredulity.

"This joke coming from you...? Tiny bit ironic, don'tcha think?" Chad mused.

My mouth opened and closed a few times as I attempted to formulate the perfect repartee. Sadly, nothing came to me. All I could do was hang my head in shame.

Once again, Zeke took pity on me - seeing that he had once trailed hopelessly after the girl of his dreams while she remained totally oblivious - and said, "Give the guy a break, Chad. Gabriella _is_ pretty fine."

"Hey!" I exclaimed on impulse, jealousy flaring up inside me before I could stop it, even though Zeke was one of my best friends. Not to mention the fact that he was totally taken with the Ice Queen. Or the fact that he had actually been backing my play.

"Nice one, Zeke," Chad whined. "Now he's gonna go off on that tangent about how 'Ella's not just hot. She's beautiful inside and out'. Blah blah blah. Seriously, it makes him sound like a pre-pubescent girl!"

"Hey!" I repeated, this time more forcefully. "Sitting _right here_, dude!"

"I really need to find some new people to hang out with..." Zeke murmured to himself as he shook his head.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

"So Taylor tried to grab me, but I bumped into this guy carrying a huge tray of drinks and his beer spilled all over..."

"ME!" Sharpay moaned dramatically. Taylor covered her eyes with her hands, shaking her head, and I rolled my eyes before continuing with my explanation as to why we were currently on the dorm floor, slightly damp still, and smelling like stale beer.

"So she-devil here decides to get revenge, and dumps a whole pitcher of the stuff right over MY head, causing the bouncers to haul our butts out of the club. It was totally humiliating. Seriously. I was mortified."

Chelsea – whom we had determined was my new (and – so far – normal) roommate was in stitches.

"Oh please, you're only embarrassed that _Troy _saw the whole thing," Sharpay drawled.

"Troy?" Chelsea questioned.

"Troy Bolton – my _best friend_," I replied, with a pointed glare at Sharpay.

She scoffed. "Oh yeah, you're best friend. The best friend who... AAARGH!" she shrieked as my fingernails dug into her leg.

"Oh... are you ok?" Chelsea asked, concerned.

"She's fine," I smiled brightly. "She's has this... condition. Tragic, really. Causes her to... shriek in pain at, err... random times."

"Oh..." Chelsea looked sympathetically at Sharpay, who growled deep in her throat, venom practically shooting my way.

If looks could kill... well, it's safe to say I would be dead.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

Outside the club, I was desperately trying to come up with a good excuse to get away from the guys and see for myself that Gabriella was still in one piece. Chad was making it, more than likely on purpose, very difficult for me. The sadistic bastard. Didn't he realize that after a situation as embarrassing as the one Ella had just been involved in, she was going to need some serious comforting from her most loyal best friend? And no, I'm not talking about Taylor. I mean me. Comfort involves hugging and running my fingers through that soft, curly hair and kissing those full... okay, maybe not that far. I'm not _that_ lucky. I would never be that lucky until I at least got past step one - ditching Zeke and my soon-to-be former best guy friend.

"What do you mean you don't wanna come over and play Prince of Persia II?! The graphics are phenomenal. Way better then the first one!" Chad insisted, apparently flabbergasted that, unlike him, I had better things to do then play some lame video game. That being said, however, I wasn't sure how they could have topped the graphics from the first game. They had to be pretty damned good...

Wait!

Gabriella could potentially have been suffering from death by high fashion footwear and I was thinking about video games? I'd been hanging around Chad _way _too much.

"Nice try, Geekboy," I said, earning myself a glare - which, by the way, I can never really take seriously when it comes from under that huge head of hair. "I think I'm just gonna call it a night. School does start tomorrow, after all."

"And we all know how well-rested and alert you want to be for your classes," Chad commented sarcastically.

True, I might not have been the world's most enthusiastic student but there was no need to insult my work ethic. That was just uncalled for.

"I'm turning over a new leaf this year!" I shot back, of course coming out with the first stupid thing that floated into my over-crowded brain.

Both Chad and Zeke burst out laughing, further belittling my scholastic habits, which I found a bit rich considering the source. In any case, I took it as my opportunity to slip away.

"See you jerks later!" I called over my shoulder as I took off at a jog in the direction of my dorm. They probably could have guessed that I wasn't actually going home but hey - I had to try to maintain some measure of dignity after all that 'love sick puppy' nonsense Chad had been spewing.

"You always run home, Troy?" Chad yelled at my retreating back.

Zeke joined in, probably because he didn't appreciate being called a jerk. "Yeah, isn't Gabriella's dorm the _other _way?"

I rolled my eyes but didn't bother to respond, instead pitching my pride to the wind and switching over to the street that would bring me straight to Ella. After a moment, I slowed to my normal pace. She may not have been as inclined to kiss a sweaty knight in shining armor...

It took me a sickening minute and a half minutes to reach her building and take the stairs - two at a time - to her floor. I stopped for a few seconds to run my fingers through my hair, checking my reflection in the glass of a fire emergency case just outside her room. Everything appeared to be copacetic so - and I _definitely _didn't puff my chest out in a masculine fashion as I did this - I pushed open her door and rushed in, ready to face hell, high water and the razor sharp fingernails of Sharpay Evans.

"She'd better still be completely intact, Evans, or else I'll pluck those feathers off that stupid dress and..." I began in my deepest, most authoritative, and okay, kind of loud, tone before the scene inside her dorm room fully registered in my idiotic head.

Sharpay Evans was not there at all. Neither was Taylor. Gabriella was sitting on what I recognized as her bed from the previous semester, peering up at me with curious eyes. A pretty girl I'd never seen before sat across from her on the room's other single bed. She looked like she desperately wanted to laugh her ass off but didn't know whether or not she should. Silence hung in the air as they both stared at me.

Yeah... awwwwkward.

"Chelsea," Gabriella finally said, too polite - bless her - to let my embarrassment continue. "This is Troy Bolton. Troy, this is my new roommate Chelsea Fitzpatrick."

Well, damn.

I suddenly found myself hoping that what they said about first impressions was a load of crap.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

After finally getting rid of Taylor and Scarlett O'Hara, I jumped in a hot shower and scrubbed my beer-drenched hair, before changing into my most comfy pair of sweats and an old Wildcats t-shirt - which I'm reasonably sure had belonged to Troy once upon a time – and flopping down on my bed.

"So," I said suddenly, crossing my legs and facing Chelsea, who mirrored my position on her own bed. "After that sufficiently awkward introduction on behalf of me and those losers I call my friends... tell me about Chelsea."

The blond laughed, her shiny, straight locks perfectly framing her face. "Well, I..." she trailed off and the two of us turned our head towards the door of our dorm as a loud banging noise echoed through the corridor, the sound coming closer and closer before our door was flung open and my heart almost stopped beating.

"She'd better still be completely intact, Evans, or else I'll pluck those feathers off that stupid dress and..."

I bit my lip as I stared up at Troy, observing his reaction as he scanned the room and realised that Sharpay wasn't there, and that I was, in fact, still very much alive. I looked over at Chelsea, who was apparently having some intense inner conflict over whether or not now was an appropriate time to laugh. I wouldn't have blamed her if she ran towards the hills screaming the next time I told her I was going to introduce her to one of my friends.

"Chelsea," I said finally. "This is Troy Bolton. Troy, this is my new roommate, Chelsea Fitzpatrick."

Aaaand, insert awkward silence here.

Troy looked at Chelsea. Chelsea looked at me. I looked at Troy. Troy looked at me. I looked at Chelsea. Troy... decided to finally talk.

"Uh... hi, nice to meet you," he said quickly before turning back to me. "Ella, where'd Taylor and the She Devil go? Are you ok?"

I almost melted into a huge puddle of loved up slop at the sound of his nickname for me rolling so naturally off his tongue. He was the only one that could get away with calling me 'Ella'. The memory of the day back in senior year that he decided he needed a nickname for me – something sweet but not too lame or clichéd, and something that no one else called me – was still so clear in my mind.

He had knocked back everything everyone suggested (Gabi? _Nah, that's what everyone else uses. _Gabs? _Sounds like 'scabs'. _Brie? _Cheese... _Doll-face pumpkin pie? _Chad, don't push me... _My little schmoopsy hunny bunny? _CHAD!!_) until he ignored them and turned to me, asking 'Ella, what do you think – any ideas?'

A smile had spread across my face. "Ella?" I had questioned. Troy had frowned a little.

"Oh...that just slipped out – I...I didn't..." I just kissed him on the cheek. He blushed. 'Ella' stuck.

"El?" Troy waved his hand in front of my face.

I couldn't help but giggle as I snapped back to reality, and Chelsea looked on in amusement. "Taylor dragged Shar out by the hair when she tried to stab me with four inches of hot pink stiletto."

"It's terrible, really, isn't it?" Chelsea piped up, her voice sympathetic. "The whole thing with your friend and her...condition."

"Condition?" Troy looked at me, his head cocked and his eyebrows knitted together – making him look like an adorably confused little boy.

"Uh, yeah – you know...The Condition...?" I said, glaring at Troy. "The one that makes her...shriek spontaneously at err...spontaneous...err...times..." I offered pathetically. Spontaneously at spontaneous times? For a supposedly intelligent young woman, I have to say...I was sounding kinda dumb.

Lucky for me, Troy was on the ball for once and caught my pleading look. "Oooooh, _that_ condition," he nodded – a little _too_ enthusiastically, but I could live with that. He looked at Chelsea, placing a hand over his heart. "Truly, truly awful."

And the Oscar goes to...

Chelsea shook her head sadly, and Troy turned back to me. "Condition aside, did she hurt you at all?"

"No, no – she just..."

"Urgh," Troy cracked his knuckles and Chelsea winced at the sound I had grown so accustomed to. "When I get my hands on that girl... I... So help me, if she had hurt you... Uuurgh, she had better have her running shoes on when I... Are you sure you're alright?"

I reached up and took his hand, nodding. "Yes, Troy. I'm fine – really."

It was then I realised I could totally milk this.

"It's just..."

"Just what?" he asked, his gorgeous face completely full of concern – which made him all the more attractive in my book. For a split second I felt guilty for making him worry. It passed as soon as he sat down beside me and wrapped one of his strong, muscular arms around my shoulders.

"I just... might... need a hug?" I looked up at him with my best puppy dog eyes. Please feel free keep all comments that contain the words 'flirt', 'tease', 'vixen' or 'slut-faced hoe-bag' to yourselves, kay? Thanks.

Troy smiled down at me, gently raising a hand to my face and brushing a long, damp strand of hair back behind my ear before wrapping me in a tight hug.

"Uh... I might, uh... I might just go... take a look around. Y'know... get some fresh air. Fresh... midnight air..." Chelsea stood up and grabbed her phone. "Uh... Guys?"

Neither of us noticed as she backed quietly out of the room, closing the door behind her.

* * *

**And so the end of another chapter draws to a close. Let us know your thoughts!**

**Up next: More about Chelsea, and Sharpay tells it like it is.**

**Until then, contribute to the Cure Kylie's Cold fund by leaving us some love!**

**Kylie and Jessa **

**Xox **


	3. No More Mr Snuffles

**Well, first we have to make some serious apologies for not posting in forever. We could sit here all day and list all the excuses we have, like deaths in one of our families, sickness, work, writers block, the usual...but we won't bore you with the details. We'll just launch straight a brand new chapter that – hopefully – you will all enjoy! It's one mother of a chapter length wise, so we hope it makes up for our lack of posting...or at least starts to make up for it!**

**A note from Jessa:**

**Heyyyaaa readers! We suck. Period. (Mostly I suck but whatevssss.) These past few weeks have just been a whirlwind of crap so we hope you forgive the delayed posting time. Also, we have to warn you that if you've never seen Moulin Rouge -- Firstly, WTF are you thinking!? Get out of your house and rent it NOW! Secondly, some of this chap won't make much sense but maybe you'll still get some laughs out of the less Moulin Rougeish parts. Next part will come much faster... we can almost promise.**

**Thanks for sticking by us despite our lack of posting, and for all the reviews! Also to our awesome beta, Hollyyyy!**

**Without further ado, allow us to present to you...Chapter Three: No More Mr. Snuffles!**

**Until next time,**

**Team KJ, otherwise known as Kylie and J to the Essa!**

* * *

**Chapter Three: No More Mr. Snuffles**

The campus was buzzing with activity. It was the first day of classes and there were people EVERYWHERE. I waved to a few people I passed that I recognized from last semester's classes -including one greasy guy I'd rather never have seen again - as I weaved through groups of confused freshmen wandering around like chickens without heads. There were a group of frat boys eyeing the fresh meat like lions about to pounce. I made sure I was long gone before that happened. Slowing as I reached the middle of the campus courtyard, my head whipped about in search of my blond roommate. That morning, I'd promised to show her around the grounds after my first class but, of course, Troy had snuck in near the end of the lecture to steal me away. Stupid boy and his bribes. Like I really had the willpower to turn down free chocolate peanut butter smoothies with a hot guy at the student center. Surely Chelsea would understand. She'd seen Troy. Admittedly, he'd acted like a crazy person but that was all a part of his unassuming charms!

Finally I spotted her leaning against the brick wall of the music building, in the process of glancing at her wristwatch. Yup. She'd definitely noticed I was late.

"Oh my goodness!" I exclaimed as I jogged up to her. "I'm _so_ sorry, Chelsea! I ran into Troy and he gave me free food. I hope you weren't waiting too long!"

To my relief, a warm smile broke out over her pretty face. Luckily for me my roommate didn't appear to have a well concealed bitch factor. Always a plus. Sharpay probably would have thrown her blackberry at my face if she was in Chelsea's shoes... and then have made me pay for a new one when it smashed on the pavement even though she has more money than Victoria Beckham.

"That's okay. I was just soaking up the sunshine," she replied.

"Yeah, welcome to New Mexico - where the sun is constantly beating down," I joked. "You ready to take in the oh-so-exciting sights of U of A?"

"Absolutely!"

Threading her arm through mine as though we'd been friends since we were in diapers, Chelsea gestured for me to take the lead.

For the next hour and a half, we treaded around, absorbing the scenery as I gave her detailed explanations of each building on the grounds. At some points - mainly in the science and math buildings - I _may_ have gone a little overboard with my mouth and maybe, just _maybe_, I came off as nerdy but Chelsea politely paid full attention to my long-winded rambling.

After the tour was over, we were both feeling fairly lazy (Hey! Our campus is big...) and so we headed back to our room to flop down on our beds and watch Moulin Rouge, which Chelsea happened to own on DVD. I think I frightened to girl when, upon hearing this news, I squealed almost as loudly as the first time I saw Troy without a shirt on. My mom had taken my copy of the movie away when she'd come home to me sobbing like a baby and screeching incoherently one time too many and I'd never seen it again.

Chelsea popped the DVD in as I sank into my intricately arranged pillows at the head of my bed. Before she collapsed on her bed herself, Chelsea pulled a bag of gummi bears out of nowhere and tossed it to me. I could see that I was going to enjoy living with a superhero with special candy powers, regardless of the millions of pounds I was sure to gain.

"So," I said as the movie began. "Tell me about yourself."

Chelsea popped a gummi bear from _another_ bag she'd managed to somehow procure into her mouth before asking, "What do you want to know?"

I shrugged. "Whatever you want to tell me. Unless you're an undercover spy or something, in which case I'll understand if you can't say anything."

My joke made her laugh lightly before she said, "No, nothing like that. I'm just a normal girl from the West Coast."

"West Coast... as in California?" I pried my eyes away from Ewan McGregor to regard her with excitement.

"Los Angeles, to be exact," she told me matter-of-factly.

I'd lived in L.A. once... for about five seconds. I was only about seven at the time but what little I could remember was epic. As I recalled, my mom had gotten pulled over on our way into the city and had to charm her way out. Ew. Luckily we moved away about three weeks later so that little fling was over before it began.

"Wooow. Do you have any hunky movie star cousins to introduce to your hot roommate?" I joked.

"Sadly, no."

"Pfft," I retaliated. "What good are you to me?"

Chelsea laughed again and said, "Hey, missy, I did give you candy and the song stylings of Ewan McGregor."

I shrugged in acceptance. "That is true," I agreed and our attention returned to the television.

A little more than an hour later, I had relocated over to Chelsea's bed where we were clinging to each other, tears steaming steadily down both our faces. Anyone who happened upon us would have definitely thought a close friend of ours just died.

"Come what mayyy!" we both belted out along with Christian and Satine. "I will love youuu until my dying dayyy!"

Our fellow dorm dwellers were definitely going to hate our guts by the end of the semester.

"T-they d-don't even know that this is h-her dying dayyy!" Chelsea screeched and all I could do was nod as I gasped for air. "Why does s-she h-have to dieee!?"

This question - the one that I asked in a similarly broken way every time I had watched the copy my mom had stolen - brought on fresh waves of sobs as I threw a handful of gummi bears at the TV where unfair and tragic events were now unfolding.

We were so caught up in all the drama and death that neither of us noticed that the door had opened and someone was now standing there, a witness to our pathetic behaviour. Troy was no stranger to my Moulin Rouge complex, but even I had to admit Chelsea had brought it out in me tenfold, especially since I hadn't seen it in far too long.

"And you wonder why your mom banned this movie from your house..."

"Troy!" I squealed in surprise, suddenly very aware of my bloodshot eyes and puffy cheeks. I tried to cover them up slightly with a balled-up tissue but it was probably even less attractive. "What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice hoarse and irritatingly man-like from crying. I sounded like Chad when he randomly decided to pick up smoking... for a whole hour.

So sexy.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

I had promised myself when I woke up that morning that I would try and get through the day without thinking about Gabriella. Try and get through the day without purposely going out of my way to see her, until our traditional first-day-back burgers for dinner later in the evening.

It was going to be like a test. A test I was giving myself, to see if I really was completely and utterly...hopelessly...some may even say pathetically...head over heels-ly infatuated with my best friend.

I failed miserably.

One morning.

I couldn't last one measly morning without having to kidnap her from class just so I could see her smiling face. It cost me a couple of chocolate peanut butter smoothies (and my male pride), but...pfft – small price to pay for an hour in the company of the beautiful Gabriella Montez.

In the couple of hours since I left her to go off and give her new roommate a tour of the campus, I had attended my first class of the semester – key word there being 'attended'...Ella was on my mind the entire time, so whether I took anything in or not is a totally different story – jogged back to my dorm to haul Chad's lazy ass out of bed so that he wasn't late for his own class, threw together a couple of sandwiches and scoffed them down for lunch, then decided that – seeing as I'd already completely fucked up as far as proving I could live without Gabriella for the day was concerned – I'd drop over and surprise her.

So that is how I came to be walking across campus towards Ella's building at two in the afternoon. Well...as for walking, read 'hastening' – I decided running screamed just a _little_ too much 'desperate', so I settled for a brisk but awkward combination of a speed walk, jog, skip and a gallop.

I finally reached her hall, reaching for the knob on her door but pausing when I heard what sounded scarily like the wailing of several kittens being mercilessly tortured, leaning my ear closer to the door to try and get a better listen.

_"Come what mayyy! I will love youuu until my dying dayyy!"_

Oh no. That was NOT a good sign.

_"T-they d-don't even know that this is h-her dying dayyy! Why does s-she h-have to dieee!?"_

There was a very good reason Gabi's mom confiscated her copy of Moulin Rouge, and this was it.

Shaking my head, I quietly opened the door and let myself into the girls' dorm room. I couldn't decide whether the site that greeted me made me want to laugh out loud for ten billion years, or take Ella in my arms and, uh...comfort her.

El and Chelsea were huddled on Chelsea's bed; hands clutched together, openly sobbing. There were gummy bears and tissues all over the floor, which I could only assume had been thrown at the television at some point in their fit of devastation.

Both girls' eyes were swollen and red, continuous streams of tears spilling over their cheeks as they wailed. After a moment of standing unnoticed – playing second fiddle to a sobbing Christian who was now rocking a cold, dead Satine in his arms – I decided I should probably alert the two puddles of misery in front of me to the fact that I was there.

"And you wonder why your mom banned this movie from your house..."

"Troy!" Gabriella squawked, reflexively attempting to cover her blotchy face with fistfuls of soggy tissues. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," I began, casually leaning against the door frame. "I was sitting around trying to decide how best to spend my free afternoon, when I though what better way than with my best friend in the whole world. But then I find her crying her eyes out over another man. Honestly, I feel cheated," I sighed dramatically, placing a hand over my heart as I looked sadly at my feet.

The sound of Gabriella's giggle made me look up again, and as our eyes met she gave me a watery smile.

"So, can I steal you away for a bit, or do I need to snap the disc?"

I chuckled to myself as Gabriella scrambled for her sunglasses while Chelsea pounced on the DVD player, rescuing her precious movie. Gabriella left Chelsea with the promise of a repeat performance later, and I wrapped one arm around her shoulders as I guided her out the door.

"So," I asked with a smirk as we jogged down the stairs. "Are those sunglasses for the sun, or to hide the bull-frog eyes?"

"TROY!"

I ran for my life.

A few moments later we were slightly out of breath, but had fallen back in-step with one another as we ambled down the path that cut through the campus.

"Tro-oy, where are we going?" Gabriella whined jokingly as she trotted along beside me. I held her hand tightly in mine, my excuse being that she was too slow. Eh, don't knock it – it was working for me, and it was all I had – why not run with it?

"Somewhere," I replied nonchalantly, seizing another opportunity as Gabriella continued to lag by grabbing her around the waist manoeuvring her behind me. "Here - hop on, slowpoke."

I felt her weight hit my back and her legs wrap securely around my waist before I took off at a gallop, Ella's laughter echoing across campus as she clung to me.

"How was the rest of first day back?" I asked her, looking back over my shoulder as I awaited her answer.

"Good," she replied lightly. "I've only had the anatomy class you whisked me away from this morning, so I spent the rest of the day showing Chelsea around and having the all important girly gossip time. I'm excited though – tomorrow is Cadaver Tuesday. Nothing like the smell of Formaldehyde in the morning."

"Geez Ella," I replied, bouncing her on my back as we continued along. "Your addiction to cutting up dead bodies continues into the new semester...Should I be worried? Start carrying a baseball bat with me wherever I go?"

She giggled, wrapping her arms around my chest and snuggling her head into my neck. "Don't worry, Wildcat – you know I'd never hurt you."

I swallowed hard as the combination of her words and her actions – no matter how innocent – caused shivers to pulse through my veins.

I had to do something, and quick.

"WOAH!" I heard her exclaim as I spun around suddenly, her nails digging into my neck slightly as she held on for dear life, shrieking with laughter. The sound just spurred me on even more, as I sprinted down the path, her legs hitting against my sides.

Finally, the small, secluded park in the middle of the campus that Ella and I had discovered a few months earlier came into view.

"The duck pond!" Gabriella exclaimed, from where she was still perched on my back. I couldn't help but smile. There was a little pond in the middle of the park and a family of ducks had taken up residency there. Gabriella reverted back to a five year old version of herself whenever she saw them – she loved to feed them, and I loved seeing the sparkle that danced in her already bright eyes as I watched her feeding them.

Letting my mind wander off on yet another Ella-tangent was my downfall as my foot suddenly caught on a rock at the edge of the garden and I flailed hopelessly before crashing to the ground, taking Ella with me.

Over and over we rolled, our limbs tangled as we finally came to a halt in the middle of the slightly damp grass – me face down, my mouth filled with a subtle hint of muddy goodness (or not-so-goodness), and Gabriella sprawled across my back, panting heavily as she tried to catch her breath.

"Are you...trying...to...kill...me...?" Gabriella gasped from above, half laughing half wheezing as she rolled off me. "Or are you just the biggest klutz that ever walked the..."

I prised my face out of the soggy earth and dragged myself into a sitting position, glaring pointedly at her and biting my tongue to stop myself from laughing as a look of realisation dawned across her face when she remembered the events of the previous night.

"Ok, ok – point taken," she said with a roll of her eyes. I couldn't help but smirk as I stood up and reached down, helping Ella to her feet. She was so cute when she..._SNAP OUT OF IT BOLTON! Daydreaming was what got you into this muddy mess in the first place! You'll just..._

I was pulled from my internal battle with myself when I realised that Ella was tugging on my sleeve, looking up at me with those puppy dog eyes she knew I couldn't refuse.

"Did you bring bread?" she asked sweetly, making me want to just cover that cute little smile of hers with my lips and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.

How could I say no to that face? I pulled the bag of semi-stale bread slices that I had been saving from my satchel and handed it to her. She let out a soft squeal, blushing when I laughed at her excitement and she realised what she had done.

She slapped me gently on the arm as she snatched the bag of bread and turned towards the pond – not before poking her tongue out at me.

"Mature, Ella. Reeeeal mature," I teased, creeping up behind her as she tossed a handful of bread crumbs towards the ducks and digging my fingers into her sides, resting my chin atop her head as I ticked her. She squirmed in my grasp as my hands moved over her stomach, my arms enveloping her as I continued my attack.

"Tr...tr...o...o...y, st...stoo...oo...ooo...op!" she gasped, laughing as she continued to wriggle. My grasp on her slipped slightly, allowing her enough freedom to turn in my arms so that we were pressed right up against one another - my arms around her waist and her hands on my chest.

We were both panting slightly – Gabi because she was still out of breath from me ticking her, me because of how close we currently were, and because of the emotions that were flooding through me.

Our eyes locked and her smiled faded slowly as I felt her breath hitch in her throat. I searched her face for a sign – any sign to show that she wanted me to kiss her as much as I wanted to kiss her right now. What would happen if I actually did this? Would I wreck our friendship forever? Would she...

"THERE YOU ARE! WHAT THE FUCK – I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU PAIR EVERYWHERE!"

And – just like that – the moment was gone.

Gabriella's arms dropped to her sides and I sprang back like I had been stung on the bum by a wasp.

"Scream a little louder next time, Shar – I don't think they heard you in Beirut," Gabriella drawled, her eyes flickering in my direction for a split second, before returning to the blonde standing in front of us with her hands on her hips.

"Haha very funny Geekarella, now come with me."

"Uh...why?" I asked, feeling slightly deflated at the prospect of my afternoon with Ella being cut short.

"Because, Mr Hot-Shot – in case you had forgotten, your little girlfriend here ruined my favourite dress of the week last night. Coffee Bean is on her this afternoon. It's been a trying day."

I spluttered slightly at Sharpay's use of the word 'girlfriend', but Gabi only reacted with an eye-roll so I let it slide.

"What the h..." I was cut off by a hand on my arm.

"It's ok Troy," she leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. "At least I won't have to take out a loan to pay for coffee. If she was dragging me to the Louis Vuitton shop, then I'd be in trouble. And besides, we don't want to...you know...trigger The Condition..." she winked at me before adding, "Burger Barn at 7, yeah?"

"It's a date," I joked, and before I knew it Sharpay had linked her arm through Gabriella's and dragged her off.

Damn you, Sharpay Evans.

Damn you.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

"Geekarella?" I questioned Sharpay as she yanked me into the nearest Coffee Bean. I'd been too unnerved by her maniac driving to ask her about my lovely new nickname on the way over. She didn't need any distractions when she was behind the wheel.

She didn't bother to acknowledge my inquiry, which I found a teensy bit rude, but that was Sharpay for you. Being friends with her was certainly an adventure. Instead, she practically threw me into a booth and then sat delicately across from me, acting as though she hadn't just kidnapped, man-handled and verbally abused me.

"Hey, you!" she hailed a young boy walking by our table. "Bring us two chocolate lattes," she barked at him, shoving a couple of bills his way.

There was fear in his eyes as he said softly, "I-I don't work here..."

Sharpay was less than impressed and, holding up a hand to me because she could tell without looking that I was about to protest, turned to the boy with an arched brow.

"And this is my problem how?"

Unable to see any other option, as Sharpay was now waving him away from our table, the boy did as he was told while I sat in awe.

"Sharpay... you can't just-" I began before she abruptly cut me off.

"Yeah, yeah. It'll do the boy good. It builds character and stuff," she said carelessly, inspecting her perfect manicure.

Sighing, I wisely moved past it. I was far beyond trying to get Sharpay Evans to turn over a new leaf. It was a lot like trying to move Troy when he fell asleep in my bed during movie nights - totally pointless.

Ahhh, Troy. And my mind had quickly made its way back to familiar territory. What the hell had I been thinking back there in the park? Gabi, you idiot! You can't just up and kiss your best friend! Even if he was the hottest thing since... I couldn't even think of anything hotter. But that was so not the point! I'd almost ruined our amazing friendship because I'd gotten caught up in the moment. I couldn't let it happen again, no matter how tempting he could be with those puppy dog eyes.

Stupid blue irises. They got me every single time.

"Oh, God. We've been here less than a minute and you're already thinking about him," Sharpay accused. "You need serious help, you know that?"

My blush gave me away, warranting one of the blonde's famous eye rolls. Sharpay might have been a total drama queen, but I had to give the girl props. Her intuition almost never steered her wrong.

"I wish you wouldn't do that..." I mumbled, squirming grumpily in my seat as I crossed my arms.

"Do what?" she asked innocently - or as innocently as possible when you have an evil mind like hers.

I glared. "Read my mind."

"Please. Even someone as dense as Chad could read your mind. There's only ever one thing on it," Sharpay said.

Oh, if I had a penny for every time a conversation with Sharpay went that way, I'd be as rich as J.K. Rowling. I mean, that woman has more money than the Queen of England! How retarded is that?

"I don't wanna talk about him," I warned her, though I knew even if we talked about something else, I wouldn't really be paying attention. Troy would still grab the majority of my focus without even being present.

"Yeah, right. You always wanna talk about him... and think about him... and pretend you're kissing him when you're actually kissing Mr. Snuffles, your teddy bear," Sharpay replied with a smirk.

I could really have killed her just then but there were too many witnesses in the busy coffee shop. "That was one... okay, two times!" I exclaimed touchily. Had it been absolutely necessary to bring up the Mr. Snuffles incident?

"Whatever," she said. "What's with all the attitude, Montez? Did something happen that I should know about?"

Dear God - the girl was on to me. Now there was no stopping her and the third degree.

"Why would you say that?" I asked, tracing the lines on the wooden table top. My attempt at nonchalance was sad to say the least, even in my own eyes. I just sucked at lying. Sharpay merely stared at me, humor in her eyes. Yeah, she wasn't buying that crap.

"Gabi, Gabi, Gabi. Don't you know by now that it's pointless to resist?"

Uh oh. There was her evil genius tone of voice. That meant I was seriously in trouble.

"Spill," she demanded, pointing a long fingernail at me like a deadly weapon.

Nervously, I tried looking anywhere but at her hawk-like eyes as I spoke. "I don't know what you're-"

"You're such a liar! Don't give me that. Just tell me and get it over with," she snapped.

I pouted when I realized right then that I would be giving myself up in the next five seconds. "Fine," I muttered in surrender. The self-satisfied look on Sharpay's face was enough to almost make me want to keep the info to myself but then I considered the hot latte that she would soon have in her hands and decided against that course of action.

"Okay, I kind of... almost kissed Troy today..." I divulged, feeling my face practically glow red.

Sharpay rolled her eyes and said, "That's it? The only problem I see with that scenario is the word 'almost'."

"You don't get it!" I replied, exasperated. Sharpay wasn't exactly one to think about the consequences of things before she did them. Case in point - the time she dragged the whole gang to Australia just so she would see a koala close up. I had to pry the koala off her face while she screamed bloody murder. "If I kiss him, it'll make things so weird between us. I don't wanna-"

"Ruin the friendship you have, blah blah blah!" Sharpay finished my sentence. "I swear, it physically pains me to see how clueless you two are. If you had kissed him, you probably would've been having sex in the park when I got there."

"Actually, we were just about to kiss when you got there," I retorted with perhaps a hint of disappointment in my voice. Sharpay noticed.

"If you want him that bad, cupcake, you've just gotta take him!" she told me.

First Geekarella, now cupcake? What the hell was that about?

"I wish it was that simple..." I said sadly. "But I need to stop pining over him like this. He's my best friend in whole world, for God's sake! I shouldn't be thinking about him like this."

"Oh, here we go," Sharpay said under her breath. I chose to take a page out of her book and ignore her.

"That's it! From here on, no more day dreams about him sweeping me off my feet and carrying me off into the sunset, no more moping around when he gets a date with another girl, and definitely no more Mr. Snuffles!" I exclaimed, sounding much more empowered then I was actually feeling. It was most certainly going to be a case of easier said than done.

Sharpay actually had the gusto to laugh at me. And not just a little laugh, oh no. She was actually doubled over, clutching her stomach and wiping tears from her eyes.

"Good... luck... with that," she said breathlessly after her fit had died down a little.

I gave her a look that would probably have been able to reduce a sane person to a blabbering idiot, cowering under the table. Of course, she didn't even notice.

"Wait!" she cried suddenly. "Does that mean I don't get to help you plan your wedding during study hall anymore?"

"You don't plan your wedding to your best friend, Sharpay," I said resolutely.

She actually looked incredibly put out. "You do if you're madly in love with him!" she insisted.

"But I shouldn't be madly in love with him! Look, if nothing has happened between us by now, maybe that's fate's way of telling us it's not supposed to. Whenever I try to make a move, something always gets in the way. What if the best thing to do would be to just be happy with the awesome friendship that I have?"

For a split second, Sharpay actually looked like a normal human being as she stared at me from across the table. One might have described the expression on her face as sympathetic.

"Or the best thing to do could be to not give up. Do you think Troy is worth it? And if you say no, I know you'll be lying." she said.

"Of course he's worth it," I replied. He was worth whatever "it" was and so much more. "But I'm tired of chasing after him and making a fool out of myself while he's none the wiser. It just wasn't meant to be." No matter how sweet and amazing and hot and smart and funny and a million more positive adjectives he was.

"You are both so fucking stupid. I don't know why I bother," Sharpay said simply, shaking her head in defeat. She could hear how serious I was about my decision. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see what's taking that incompetent youngster so long."

It turned out that the young boy Sharpay had foolishly handed twenty dollars to had made off with her money, which served her right in my opinion. When she returned to the table, fuming, with a latte in each hand, she slammed mine down in front of me - almost splashing the hot liquid up into my freaking eye - and went on a tirade about the youth of America. Luckily for me, that meant that she was off the topic of Troy, even if I had to listen to her retarded theories about how they should up the punishment methods for school children.

This went on for about an hour and a half, with me barely getting a word in edgewise, which actually suited me just fine as my mind was elsewhere. I know I'd promised to stop fantasizing about Troy but I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if we'd actually kissed. I bet fireworks would have spontaneously erupted in the sky... who cares if it had been the middle of the afternoon?

No! Bad Gabi! Must. Stop. Romantic. Thoughts.

Oh, with Troy in mind, it was almost time for me to meet him for our traditional dinner of burgers and fries. The old me would have pretended it was secretly a date but the new and improved me knew better!

Sort of.

"Well, Shar. On that lovely note, I've gotta go," I said, interrupting her description of a medieval torture device that could be quite inexpensively be brought back by the school board. Wanting to escape that riveting conversation ASAP, I barely waited for her confirmation. I rose, gave her a short hug and darted away.

"You're in some serious denial there, Montez!" she hollered after me, catching the attention of half the people in cafe. Not bothering to look back, I held a not-so-nice finger up to her and made my exit.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

I stood under the very-close-to-cold shower, grumbling to myself as thoughts raced through my head at the rate of knots.

I couldn't believe I'd almost kissed my best friend.

I couldn't believe I'd almost wrecked our friendship – which meant everything to me – like that.

I couldn't believe I'd risked hurting her just to satisfy my stupid male hormones.

But most of all, I couldn't believe Sharpay had interrupted it all.

The thought of what might have been ached deep in my gut. What if she'd actually kissed me back. Would she be in my arms right now? Would I be able to call her my girlfriend?

Or would she have locked herself in her room, never to speak to me again?

That thought was too painful for me to bear.

An image of a life without Ella flashed through my mind, and it wasn't a happy one.

As much as I wanted to hold her...kiss her...call her my own...I knew I had to forget about it.

Although that task was proving to be harder than I would have liked. I sighed as I looked down at the tingling section of my anatomy that was betraying me, and switched the 'hot' tap off completely.

Standing under the icy jets, I squeezed my eyes shut tight. This had to end – right now.

Half an hour later I was dressed, teeth brushed, hair...flopping miserably down after a failed attempt at taming...and I was heading towards Burger Barn.

For the dinner that was purely platonic.

Because we were just friends.

And I loved her too much to...STOP TROY! Just STOP!

Without realising it, I had arrived outside the Burger Barn and walked smack bang into none other than the girl who was sending my head into a spin.

"WATCH WHERE YOU'RE...Oh! Troy!" her attitude changed dramatically as she realised who it was that had almost knocked her off of her feet.

"Ella! Sorry, I...I was a million miles away," I apologised, rubbing my hands up and down her arms.

To make sure she was completely steady on her feet, of course...

"It's ok, Wildcat. First day back'll do that to ya!" she punctuated her sentence with a grin.

Damn she wasn't making this whole just-friends thing any easier. Why did she have to be so freaking adorable?

"Troy? You coming?" she looked at me from where she was holding the door, her head tilted to the side, a confused frown settled on her face.

Gah! Snap out of this, Bolton – she's your best friend, she's gonna know something's up! I swallowed, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

"Uh...yeah – sorry," I apologised again before following her into the Burger Barn.

If Gabi had noticed my awkwardness, she didn't acknowledge it as we chose our usual booth in the back corner and fell into an easy chatter. I began to loosen up – this is how things were meant to be: comfortable, relaxed conversations between two best friends who could tell each other anything.

Well.

Almost anything.

"...and then her face when she realised he had taken off with her money – oh my GOD, she was FUMING!" Gabriella finished her story enthusiastically as I made the appropriate sounds of amusement.

"I bet she was pissed," I said with a grin. "Wait till the next time I see her."

Gabriella laughed and then sighed, her face becoming slightly more serious.

Uh oh. This is it. This is the part where she questions me about my un-best-friend-like behaviour earlier today, and dumps my sorry ass.

Or ditches me as a best friend. Whatever.

"So. Day one done. What are your thoughts so far?"

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding. Academics. Of course. She wanted to talk school. Relief flooded through me.

"Today was fine," I told her. "But looking at my schedule, things are going to get pretty hectic pretty quick...it's gonna be a tough semester."

Gabi smiled sympathetically and nodded. "For me too – I have so many classes a day it's ridiculous. Not to mention Alyson from next door to Mom still wants me to tutor Jayden, Holly and Emily in math. And I've seen the assignment outlines for a couple of my classes...all I have to say is..._gah_."

"You'll be fine, Ella," I said earnestly. "You were given an incredibly brilliant mind for a reason."

"Oh stop, Troy," Gabriella announced dramatically, with a flick of her hand. "Please, you're making me blush!"

The two of us laughed and suddenly I realised how good it felt – it was like old times. Not that I didn't always have a great time when I was with Ella, but right then and there with the two of us having a laugh...it was exactly how it used to be before stupid hormones and crushes came into the equation.

As we continued to laugh, I realised that this was why I had to give up the thought of ever being with Gabriella for good. Because I didn't want to lose _this_.

Our friendship was so unique, so precious - I'd be damned if I was going to throw that away. Right there in that moment we were in our own little bubble and nothing or no one could interrupt us.

"Excuse me, can I take your order?"

Well fuck you, waiter boy.

* * *

**There you have it - the third installment of our zany, crazy, somewhat whacky, but hopefully enjoyable creation. Stay tuned for another update soon...well, hopefully sooner than this one was posted! **

**Up next: Cooking chaos as Chad tries to BBQ, and a bombshell is dropped!**

**Enjoy, and let us know what you thought of this chapter! Until next time, guys:**

**Jessa and Kylie xox**


	4. Friendzilla

****

Yo ho diablo! How are we all today? Good? Great! Now don't all die of a heart attack...we didn't make you wait almost two months this time!! We're back, with the next instalment of our co-wriiiiiteee!

**We won't hold you up for too long...just the usual things to say here: thanks for the awesome reviews, thanks to Holly for beta-ing, thanks to Kirstie at ZA Angels for voting this Fan Fic of the Week! We were both so excited and flattered! If you don't know what ZA Angels is, you should be suitably ashamed and go check it out right after you read this chapter :p zaangels dot com, yall! While you are there, visit the most awesome fan forum that both of us (Jessa and Kylie) moderate at, and vote in our banner contest - zaangels dot com slash forums!**

**Well, that's it from us! Enjoy!**

**Team KJ **

**(****Please note: No imaginary animals were harmed during the writing of this chapter. It's the magic of fanfiction!)**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Friendzilla**

As our laughter echoed up the stairs, I vaguely wondered just how much I annoyed my neighbours.

My concern only lasted approximately 3 seconds however, as my attention was drawn back to my best friend. We had had such a great time together during dinner and I had managed to act relatively normal and relaxed for the entire night, after my little promise to myself.  
I'm not sure if it had more to do with proving a point to Sharpay than actually getting over Troy, but whatever – it was working for me.

If Troy had felt weirded out by the fact I almost kissed him earlier in the day, he didn't show it. Conversation flowed easily as usual between us, which was a huge relief for me. If one stupid action on my behalf had destroyed our friendship, I don't think I could have lived with myself.

Can't you all just hear the violin's coming from the itsy bitsy pity party?

Ahem.

Troy slung his arm casually around my shoulders as we reached my corridor, and I tried my hardest to ignore the tingles that raced through my body.

"So Miss Montez, if I was to suggest breakfast at Lynn's Diner before class tomorrow, what would you say?"

I pretended to look thoughtful for a moment. Like the decision actual required brain cells. Duh.

"I would say pancakes are on you," I replied cheekily.

Troy sighed dramatically swaying us from side to side as we walked up the hall. "For all the years we've been best friends, I'm surprised I haven't had to take out like, a bank loan just to survive."

"So you'll come get me at 7:30?" I grinned up at him, placing my hand on the knob of my door, mentally berating myself for sounding so flirty.

God, I'm a slut. A slut!

Troy rolled his eyes and let out another big sigh. "I gueeesss," he drew out.

"See you then," I giggled. Our usual, customary good night would now be for me to give him a quick peck on the cheek. I hesitated slightly, in light of today's events, before deciding it would be weirder in Troy's eyes if I _didn't_ do it.

And we couldn't have that.

I reached up on my tip toes and kissed him quickly on the cheek.

WHORE!

Oh, shut up brain.

"Night Troy," I said as he wrapped me in a tight hug, pressing his usual friendly kiss to my forehead.

"G'night Ella," he replied with a smile and wink.

Then, before I had even recovered from my pathetic pile of mush, he was gone. I stood there for a moment – alone in the hallway, listening to his retreating footsteps and feeling strangely like a thirteen year old who had just been dropped home after her first date. I rolled my eyes at myself and swallowed those thoughts before quietly letting myself into the dorm room, aware that Chelsea may have been asleep.

Or not.

_"...A prettier package you never did see, take me home and then unwrap me, shop around but little darlin' I gotta be...the ladies' choice..."_

I squealed like a fan girl and flopped down on the bed next to Chelsea.

"Okay, someone up there was looking out for me the day they decided you should be my roommate!" I exclaimed, grabbing a fistful of caramel popcorn.

Chelsea laughed and passed me half a block of rocky road chocolate. Phwoooar, this girl was going to do bad things to my figure. Although – bright side – maybe if I looked like the side of a house, Troy wouldn't speak to me anymore and I wouldn't have to worry about, y'know, slipping and landing with my lips on his. And stuff.

I shoved two pieces in my mouth.

"My god, Link Larkin is freakin' sexy," I groaned through my mouthful of chocolate.

Chelsea laughed again, nodding her agreement. "Y'know he kinda reminds me of...Troy."

I nearly spat out my chocolate. "Troy? Troy Bolton? As in, my best friend Troy?"

"Yeah," Chelsea confirmed. "Don't you think?"

I tilted my head, studying the TV screen. "A little I guess...just don't let Troy hear you say that – we already have enough trouble fitting his ego through doorways."

The two of us snorted with laughter, and I popped some more chocolate in my mouth to try and distract myself from the images that were now flashing through my head of my best friend shaking his hips in my direction.

"Speaking of Troy, how was dinner?" Chelsea asked.

"Yeah, it was great," I replied. "It's this tradition we've had ever since first semester of freshman year here at U of A – burgers for dinner on the first night back. Best opportunity to have a whinge about the workload we're about to be piled with."

"I bet," the blond smiled, before pausing for a moment. "So..." she trailed off, seeming slightly uncertain.

"Mmm?" I pressed curiously.

"What's the deal there? I mean like, between you guys. You seem pretty close."

"Yeah," I smiled. "We're the best of best friends. Pretty much inseparable, most of the time."

"But you're just best friends – nothing more?"

"Nothing more," I confirmed, feeling slightly deflated at the reminder.

"But you would like there to be...?" Chelsea pushed.

"To be what?" I played dumb.

"Something more."

I swallowed. She had me pegged! Was I really that obvious? And sad? And PATHETIC? Gah! I had to fix this.

I shook my head and attempted to laugh. Ok, I'll admit it sounded more like a donkey being strangled, but at least it was a better alternative than throwing myself on the floor, beating my fists down and sobbing out an admittance of hopeless devotion. The girls already gave me a hard enough time about Troy as it was – I couldn't have the merciless teasing extend any further!

"With Troy?" I snorted.

Chelsea nodded pointedly, raising an eyebrow at my sudden onset of retardedness.

"Pfft, no way! I'd rather...I'd rather date, like...like...a...a chimp," I finished lamely.

"A chimp?" Chelsea laughed.

"Well...yeah..." I joined in laughing at my own expense. "Seriously though...Troy and I are extremely close, but...dating him would be like...dating my brother," the words physically pained me to say. Tearing my heart out here, people! " Yeah I love him -" aaah, that felt good, "but as my best friend, not as anything more," not so good. "Nothing could ever happen between us – it'd just be too...weird," why not stick the knife in a little further, Gabriella? Give it a twist while you're at it too. "So. Just friends." Ok mouth, stop speaking now before you shatter my heart into a million, tiny, non-repairable pieces.

Chelsea nodded slowly, processing my gush of ramble.

"Fair enough," she said eventually. "So anyway...you up for Love Actually after Hairspray's done?"

Great.

Just what I need – a soppy tale of unrequited love. Story of my freaking life. Even if it was about a _guy_ not getting any. I wonder if I would have more luck in love if I was a guy.

Or a lesbian.

Now there's a thought.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

Ah, university - the time of crazy partying!

Okay, a gathering of friends in the park in the middle of a Saturday afternoon may seem tame to most people but those people have obviously never seen Chad attempt to operate a barbecue. It wasn't just entertaining, it was _fucking _entertaining. I could've helped, since it was in fact my barbecue, but it was so much funnier leaning back against a tree and watching him struggle.

"God fucking... stupid..." he muttered, the rest of the sentence a jumble of barely discernible - and quite inventive - curses, while he fiddled with the propane tank.

Zeke and I shared a knowing look, both of us well aware that the knob he should've been turning right about then was located on the opposite side of the tank.

"How long 'til he finds it, you think?" Zeke asked me, brushing an errant spider from the hem of his shirt.

"At least seven minutes," I answered after a moment of consideration.

I didn't hear Zeke's possibly hilarious response because a familiar giggle caught my attention, the very one that sent my heart into warp speed. Immediately my head did an exorcist twist in the direction the sound had come from and there she was. Gabriella. She was flanked on either side, as ever, by Taylor and Sharpay, along with her blond roommate and one other girl I'd never seen before.

Sigh. There was her adorable wave and smile... cue heart attack.

They were quite a posse, struggling with various bottles of soft drinks and things to barbecue. Tay was pulling along two folding chairs - which made her stride oddly zombie-ish - while Ella's roommate was stuck lugging a pink sparkly boombox. There was no question about who it belonged to. Sharpay, I wasn't surprised to see, had somehow avoided carrying anything besides her yappy little dog.

Zeke and Chad both abandoned their previous activities to greet their girlfriends, but not before I'd heaved myself up off the grass and scooped Ella up into a hug, ignoring the gross feeling of packages of steak and ground beef she'd been carrying getting squished between us.

"Troy!" she squealed, her voice muffled by my tight grip. Her face was pressed into my shoulder.

If I had cared enough to look, I'm sure Chad and Zeke would've been rolling their eyes.

She giggled - heart attack! - as she pulled away. "Miss me?" she joked, laying the food down next to the blanket Zeke and I had spread out to witness the circus that was Chad lighting the barbecue.

I could feel the smile on my face grow wider. I probably looked like the Joker or something.

"Not really," I quipped. The truthful answer would have been: HELL YES.

Feigning outrage, Ella said, "I bring hot girls to this picnic and this is how I'm repaid?"

Hot was right. The sundress Ella was wearing was one of my favorites and, no matter how much I repeated the "we're best friends" mantra in my brain, I always ended up staring at her legs. Smooth... golden... Oh fuck, here we go.

We're best friends. WE'RE BEST FRIENDS.

She's my best friend with the sexiest legs I've ever seen...

NO!

To conceal my dirty thoughts - fantasies which, if ever brought into fruition, would no doubt have resulted in grass stains galore - I laughed nervously.

"Hot girls?" I questioned, though I knew full well that it was her segue-way into introducing me to the unfamiliar girl who'd arrived with them.

"This is Mia - Shar's new roomie. And I assume even you can remember Chelsea," she teased, pointing to each girl respectively.

Mia was an attractive girl, there was no denying it. She had very delicate features, everything thin and dainty. Her hair was light brown and expertly coiffed. I could detect very well-applied make up on her milky white face that complimented her blue dress perfectly. If I didn't know any better, I might have thought Sharpay decided to clone herself to see what she'd look like as a brunette. God knows, she probably had enough money.

Even though she smiled warmly as we shook hands and Ella told her my name, she still couldn't hold a candle to my best friend with her smooth, golden -

SHUT UP, BRAIN!  


"Nice to meet you," I said politely, Gabriella nodding at my ability to at least pretend I was civil.

"Hey," Chelsea said softly and I smiled in return. Any friend of Ella's was destined to be a friend of mine.

"Now that we have all these ridiculously boring introductions out of the way," Shar's voice cut through the air. "Let's start actually having some fun!"

"What do you suggest, oh wise one?" Gabriella asked sardonically, making me chuckle without even thinking.

"Well, the optimum activity would be watching the guys play Frisbee shirtless, but since they have to make our food first, how about we just relax. Where's my stereo?"

Chelsea instantly sprung into action and forked over the pink boombox, jumping back once the job was done as if she expected Shar to explode. We all settled down on the ground, with the exception of Sharpay who stole one of Taylor's folding chairs - more specifically the one that was meant for Chad - whining on about not wanting to ruin yet another designer dress. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ella blush, a sheepish expression on her face. It didn't take long for Taylor to let the whole thing go; Sharpay and her whining tended to have that affect on people.

Feeling shamelessly flirty, I yanked Ella into my lap, illiciting a high pitched squeal from her. To my delight, she didn't protest. She just shifted for a few seconds to make herself more comfortable before leaning back into me.

Ahhh, bliss.

I closed my eyes as I savored the scent of her body wash that lingered on her skin.

For the record, I'm not a stalker. I just enjoy the smell of apples...Apple Orchards Body Wash by Herbal Essences, to be more precise.

No really... please don't call the police?

My focus drifted in and out as the girls chatted away above the show tunes blaring from Shar's stereo. Taylor had abandoned the girl talk in favour of ensuring that Chad didn't set his huge afro on fire. I almost laughed out loud when Chad honest-to-God pouted at the fact that it took his girlfriend mere seconds to light the barbecue.

"It just doesn't like me, dammnit!" he proclaimed while throwing his hands up in the air.

Taylor bit her lip to suppress the laughter she so obviously wanted to set free. "Chad... baby, it's an inanimate object."

As was often the case with Taylor's logical observations, Chad's only comeback was a series of frustrated grunts.

The feeling of Ella resting her hand on my knee brought my attention rocketing back to her and away from Chad and Taylor in an instant. I'm not sure whether or not she was aware she was doing it, but she started to rub small circles up from my knee to my thigh and back down again.  


Gulp.

How could something feel so wrong yet so right at the same time?

Her contributions to the conversation between herself, Sharpay and their roommates didn't cease while as she unknowingly teased me, making that much worse. The sound of her giggling at Chelsea and Shar's heated debate about whether hamsters make good pets only added to the torture being bestowed upon me.

Dear God.

I could feel my jeans becoming uncomfortably tight already...

Nonononono.

I had to think of dead kittens or Miss Darbus naked.

Okay... with that image in mind, I may never want to have sex again.

"You okay?"

And Ella simply _had_ to say that right in my ear in a sultry whisper.

Dead kittens. DEAD PUPPIES. DEAD LEMUR BABIES!

"Uh huh!" I said, wincing at the unfortunate cracking of my voice.

She laughed. "Are you sure? You seem really tense..."

If only that sentence could have ended with her offering to help me relax, perhaps with a nice massage. But alas, the only way to leave that picnic without embarrassing myself tenfold was to not have Ella in between my legs.

Man, how hot does _that_ sound?

... I have some serious issues. How many baby animals would have to die in my head in order to make this go away?

Needless to say, when Zeke announced that the first batch of food was done, I was in no position to get up. Getting up would involve the rest of the park, once Sharpay yelled it out as she was sure to do, to become aware of my, um... situation? Predicament? Perviness? All of the above?

Ella immediately sprung up out of my lap as if she hadn't eaten in days, reaching her hand behind her as if to help me up. When I didn't take it - I was too busy finding something else to cover my lap with like a fourteen year old boy in gym class - she looked back in question.

"Uh... leg cramp?" I tried meekly, pretending to massage my "cramped" calf while also strategically hiding my lap with the rest of my leg.

She patted my head sympathetically. "Poor boy. Don't worry, I'll get you something."  


I breathed a sigh of relief when she skipped away, over to the crowded barbeque. How I'd managed to get out of that one without some higher power deciding they needed to embarrass me, I'll never know. Not only that, but my food was being brought directly to me by the hottest girl alive. Wait a minute... did I fall asleep in the park? I'd had that dream more than once.

"Um, Troy?" I heard Chad ask me as he let himself fall into a sitting position beside me. "Why do you have Sharpay's stereo in front of your crotch?"

I couldn't very well say I enjoyed the vibrations from the bass, now could I?

"I don't... know?" I said lamely.

Chad rolled his eyes at me, a smirk on his face that suggested he knew precisely what the stereo was doing in my lap - the very same place Ella had just vacated.

"Maybe if you stopped staring at the girl's ass, you wouldn't need to hide anything."

Busted.

I sputtered indignantly all the same, as if to say "how dare you!". Having known me for pretty much ever, Chad paid very little attention.

"Or maybe if you actually told Gabs how you felt, you wouldn't be so sexually frustrated all the time and therefore wouldn't have to hide anything either," he suggested before digging into the first of the four hamburgers on his plate.

Horrified that one of the girls, or even worse - the girl in question, would overhear, I glanced around. Luckily for Chad, Zeke's awesome cooking was making for a good distraction.

"Dude!" I hissed. "A measure of discretion, please? And besides, I really don't know what you're talking about..." As if to prove a point, I removed Sharpay's stereo from the front of my pants, my excitement having died down by that point.

"Oh, give it a rest, pretty boy. How's this?" he asked through a disgustingly visible mash-up of meat, ketchup and bread. "You tell Gabi the truth or I'll tell Sharpay it was really you who fed Boi that chocolate rabbit that made him puke all over her closet last Easter."

Oh shit.

"You wouldn't!"

"I'd say I'm pretty tired of this whole girly, unrequited love, soap opera thing you've got going on, so yeah. I totally would."

My eyes narrowed dangerously as I desperately wished he'd choke on his hamburger, hence ridding me of my problem all together.

No such luck.

Before I was forced to beg him to keep his mouth shut, we were joined by Ella and Chelsea. 

Thankfully, Gabriella chose to sit next to me as opposed to on me, while Chelsea sat in front of me.

"Here you are, precious," Ella said in a teasing babyish tone, handing me a plate of steak. "How's your leg?"

I blushed, looking only at the steak because I could see Chad's shoulders shaking with laughter out of the corner of my eye. Leg cramp - the oldest trick in the book.

"It's fine, thanks," I mumbled.

"Good! 'Cause you're so going to have to carry me home after I eat all this," she replied and tucked into the hamburger Zeke had made especially for her with absolutely _everything_ on it.

Was it wrong that I found her ability to scarf that burger down incredibly sexy?

Like I said... issues.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

There's only one thing that's more amusing than watching Chad try to light a barbecue, and that's watching Chad try to pack up a barbecue.

After almost half an hour of sitting around watching him struggle, however, it was starting to get cold. And boring. And dangerous too, as Chad took to throwing things around in frustration. And even though sitting with Troy's arm wrapped around me, his hand running up and down my arm to keep me warm was kind of cozy...we decided it would be a good time to bail and leave Chad to his own devices.

"Chels...grab your stuff, we're gonna get outta here before someone looses an eye," I whispered to my newest friend, as a pair of tongs went sailing over our heads.

"Good idea," Chelsea replied in agreement, quickly snatching up her belongings and standing along with Troy and I.

"Uh...we're, uh...gonna head off now," Troy muttered quickly before the three of us turned and hastened, ignoring Taylor as she shouted insults about us 'abandoning her' at our retreating backs.

"Oh god," I laughed breathlessly, looking at Chelsea. "You must think we're all completely nuts – the lot of us."

"Hey!" Troy exclaimed indignantly on my other side. "I resent that! I am nothing but the epitome of cool, thank you very much Miss Montez."

I threw my arm out sideways and whacked him.

Chelsea laughed. "Naaah, life would just be boring without a...oh, excuse me," she apologized as her cell phone rang. "Hello?"

Troy looped his arm through mine as we walked a little ahead of Chelsea, allowing her some privacy for her phone call.

And allowing us a little of our own alone time.

Shut up. Let me have my dreams.

_Anyway_, Troy and I ambled along in a comfortable silence as Chelsea chatted away a few steps behind us, until we heard her say goodbye and she caught up to us, smiling but wiping a few tears from her eyes at the same time.

"Hey, are you ok?" I asked in concern, putting a hand on her arm.

"Yeah, yeah – I'm fine," she replied. "Just a few homesick tears...That was the lady whose kids I babysit when I'm back home in LA. Vanessa Bryant, you might have heard of her."

Troy stopped dead in his tracks, my shoulder almost ripping out of its socket as I stumbled.

"Ow, Troy!" I frowned, rubbing my aching joint. "What are you doing?"

I looked up at my best friend who didn't even seem to realise he'd hurt me as he stared at Chelsea, his mouth opening and closing like some sort of retarded guppy.

"Va...Vanessa Bryant?" he stammered. Troy Bolton? Lost for words? What the heck was the world coming to? And who was this other woman who had sent my Troy's head into the clouds?

Wait – _my _Troy? What, was I five?

I looked between Chelsea – who had an amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth - and Troy – who was still gaping – waiting for an answer.

"Vanessa Bryant, as in..._Kobe's wife_?" the last part of his sentence came out in a strangled, squeaky whisper. Aaah, the LA Lakers – I should have known Troy's sudden awestruck state was somehow directly related to basketball.

Chelsea shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, the Bryant's are family friends of ours – have been for years, we live in the same neighbourhood. My little sister Lauren is the same age as their eldest Natalia, so I quite often look after the two of them, and little Gianna as well. They're gorgeous kids."

"Y...you know Kobe? Kobe _Bryant_?" Troy stuttered, sounding more like a pre-pubescent fourteen year old fan boy than I had ever heard in our three plus years of friendship.

Chelsea laughed. "Yeah, but it's no big deal – our families have been friends practically my whole life. He's just a regular guy, really. A regular guy with one heck of a game."

"No big deal?" Troy squeaked, and I had the sudden urge to slap him back to his senses. "Chelsea – Kobe Bryant is like, my _idol_! You are officially my new favorite person."

New fav...new favo...JHUBUNJUGYVFV!! The green eyed monster bubbled up inside as I huffed along beside the apparent new BFF's.

Chelsea just beamed, her cheeks slightly flushed and her eyes sparkling.

Helloooooo new roomie – my best friend you're flirting with here – keyword, MY! My, as in MINE 

MINE MINE!

Urgh.

Since when did I turn into Friendzilla?

"No shit!" I heard Troy exclaim suddenly, and my attention snapped back to my so-called best friend and my so-called 'nice' roommate.

No shit what? What did I miss? God Gabriella, you always zone out at the most inopportune times!

Chelsea shrugged her shoulders again. "Yeah, easy."

What's easy? WHAT?

"Really?!" Troy's voice had reached a pitch beyond fan girl proportions.

"Done deal," Chelsea grinned. "I'll make a call tonight and see what I can do."

"Did you hear that Ella?" Troy turned to me looking like a little boy at Christmas, who had just discovered a brand new bike under the tree from Santa. His adorable blue...WAIT!

I was mad at him.

Right, mad best friend face? Check. I don't care attitude? Check.

"Huh?" I replied vaguely.

"Chelsea's gonna get me an autographed Lakers jersey!"

Oh fantastic. New BFF has known Troy for all of one week and she's already giving him a better present than I have ever gotten him in our three year relationship.

Friendship. Whatever.

It isn't even his fucking birthday!

But, being the wonderful, caring, loyal best friend that I am, I sucked it up, plastered on a smile, and gushed graciously. "Wow, that's awesome!"

"Isn't it?!" Troy was practically bouncing as he turned back to Chelsea and they continued their excited basketball ramble.

Cue much grumbling under my breath.

Coz I'm mature like that.

We reached our dorm and I reached for the handle, determined to continue on my completely mature charade and leave Troy to finish his conversation with Chelsea in peace while I went and sulked like the spoiled brat of Sharpay Evans proportions I appeared to be turning into.

But before I could slink through the door unnoticed, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, you don't think you're getting away without a hug, do you?" Troy was looking at me with such an adorable expression – a mixture of confusion and amusement and just plain sexiness – that my legs turned to jelly and all previously felt anger disappeared in a big pink puff of I-love-my-best-friend.

Chelsea? Chelsea who?

I grinned and snuggled into his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around me, squeezing me so hard my feet actually left the floor. He set me back down after a few seconds, kissing my forehead as he always did. Chelsea bid him goodbye and I leaned up and kissed his cheek as per our ritual, feeling somewhat satisfied as my roommate disappeared into our dorm.

Oh, who was I kidding – I didn't need to be jealous of her! Who cares how many basketball stars she has connections with; I'll always be Troy Bolton's number one.

Won't I?

WON'T I??

PS. The correct answer is yes, y'all.

With one last (adorable, sexy, gorgeous, makes-me-weak-at-the-knees) grin, Troy headed back down the corridor.

"I'll call you later, Ella," he yelled over his shoulder, and I had to lean against my door frame for support.

Sigh.

Entering my room, I took note of Chelsea sitting back against her pillows, a somewhat distant and dreamy smile on her face.

"Gabi?" she asked distantly.

"Mmm?" I replied.

"Are you sure there's nothing going on between you and Troy?"

Well, we have a registry office booked in Vegas next week, but...

"Chels – no! I promise, if there was I would tell you."

"So there's absolutely no feelings more than friendship from either of you?"

I sighed. "Seriously Chels – we're best friends, nothing more!"

"So you wouldn't mind if I asked him out then?"

One time – back in the seventh grade – Declan Martins smeared red ink all over the back of my dress, and then pretended to tear up whilst telling the whole class how proud he was that I was finally experiencing the joys of being a woman.

I thought that was the worst day of my entire life.

I was wrong.

* * *

**Soooo, should we run for the hills yet? Please review!**

**Up next: awkwardness abounds!**

**Until next time,**

**Peace, love and all that jazz,**

**Jessa and Kylie xox**


	5. Holy Freak Out, Batman!

**Well howdy partners! We're back with chapter 5, coming to you live from our safehouse in the hills! Can anyone give me a **_**yeeeeahyaaah? -**_**listens for reply as it echoes through the mountainous valley-**

**We don't think there is anything super important to say...just the usual thanks for the amazing reviews, thanks to our homegal Holly for her awesome awesomeness, we love the Zefron's slicked hair...oh, and also that we're working on getting out of procrastination rehab, but it is a long, hard road to recovery :p**

**Ok, so I think we're good to go!**

**Hope you enjoy the latest installment, and don't hurt us TOO much :p**

**Team KJ (aka Kylz and Jes5a (the 5 is silent))**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

I stood frozen in place, wondering if there was any chance that the foul carpet in mine and Chelsea's room would morph into a black hole a suck me up. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be in its immediate agenda.

Goddamnit.

Okay, Gabriella. Just remember to breathe.

Maybe I had just imagined that my worst nightmare had come true. Surely it had been my ears playing tricks on me. Horrible... awful... SATANIC tricks. Why why WHY would you do that to me ears!? Is this payback for that time that Troy and I decided it would be hilarious to see how many mini marshmallows would fit in you?

"W-what?" I squeaked out, unable to manage anything else.

Chelsea repeated a sentence I really could have lived without hearing ever again.

"You wouldn't mind if I asked Troy out then, would you?" Her green eyes were so huge and innocent, masking the pure evil within.

So... not a trick then. Just the world ending right before my very eyes. How the fuck was I supposed to respond to that? No biatch, he's MINE! Even though I just told you on no uncertain terms that he wasn't! Yeah right.

I could have told her he was gay! ...But then she might have been miffed when we invited her to our wedding and I had to say "Oops! I guess not!".

FuckfuckFUCK.

This was very, VERY bad.

And Chelsea was starting to look at me funny.

"Um, are you okay, Gabriella? You look really pale," she observed, rising from her bed to walk to my side. She laid a comforting - or what she thought should have been comforting - hand on my arm.

NO, I AM NOT OKAY BECAUSE YOU ARE SUCKING MY WILL TO LIVE, SCORPION WOMAN!

Ahem.

"Yeah!" I said, a very unconvincing waver in my voice. "It's just the... altitude..."

How did I survive that long being so stupid?

"Of course. The altitude here are sea level," Chelsea commented with an eyebrow quirked up.

"Well, you know," I replied vaguely as I shrugged out of her concerned grasp.

Hmmm. I could have pretended to suddenly have some terrible, life threatening disease and collapse and then later - after being revived - pretend I knew nothing of her Troy-lust. And Troy would be so busy nursing me back to health that he wouldn't have time to entertain her silly fantasies!

Yes, perfect plan!

Except for the not having a life threatening disease part. They'd probably be able to tell that at the hospital...

"So, what do you think?" Chelsea asked a moment later, maybe when she thought I looked less like I was teetering on the edge of sanity. "Do I have a shot? I mean, he's a total sweetie and you seem to know him the best out of anyone."

In that moment, for the first time since I'd met her, I sized Mrs. BFFL to the LA Lakers up as competition.

She really was beautiful. As well as a snappy dresser who could effortlessly hold up her end of a fun conversation.

Ugh. I was in so much shit.

And then, my hugely annoying conscience chose that time to weigh in, reminding me of my pact to stop thinking of Troy Bolton as more then my best friend. Chelsea was perfect for him with her stupid basketball connections and shiny blond hair, more perfect then me at any rate. She really had a chance at making him happy. Would I have been able to live with myself if I got in the way of that?

Would I have been able to live with myself if I _didn't_ get in the way of that?

"S-sure," I heard myself choke out.

Hey! Who said you could say that, mouth!?

"Really!? That's awesome - thank you so much, Gabi! I can tell your opinion means a lot to him so I guess that's step number one down."

I was saved the horror of having to rearrange my expression into some sham of enthusiasm by a 

huge bear hug, compliments of the latest girl to develop a crush on my best friend. You think I'd be used to dealing with it by now, seeing that it only happened every 0.2 seconds.

"Don't mention it," I muttered into her shoulder.

There went my mouth again, spouting out things without permission.

"Now comes the hard part-" Chelsea said nervously after she'd ceased invading my personal bubble. "Actually asking him out.'

Ahhh, yes. The excruciatingly, agonizingly, piercingly hard part of her actually asking him out. With that delightful thought, I excused myself and darted out to the quad where I screeched so loudly that car alarms started going off.

Sharpay would've been proud.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

Why is it that all of life's defining moments take place at the most inopportune times?

I remember my first epiphany.

I was seven years old and I realised that if I mashed my peas under a little bit of leftover potato, Mom wouldn't notice that I hadn't eaten them and I would still get dessert. The previous night I had been denied a slice of chocolate mousse cake with hot fudge sauce – all because I wouldn't eat my peas. But that night I was prepared. I craftily shifted all my veggies around my plate and arranged them so that there was not a trace of a green anywhere in sight.

"You ate all your peas, Troy!" Mom had exclaimed. "I'm so proud of you!"

I grinned innocently as she ruffled my hair. "Does that mean I can have dessert?" I asked hopefully.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey – we haven't got any sweets tonight. We're even out of ice cream."

See, if my stroke of brilliance had struck me just one day earlier, I could have lived it up in chocolate mousse cake heaven.

But no.

I was one stupid day late.

Anyway – back to the topic at hand. Defining moments and their habit of occurring at the wrong time.

It hadn't even been one week since I decided that I had to get Gabriella out of my head. She was my best friend and that was how it was going to stay.

The gods of my messed up mind had other ideas though.

There I was - sitting on the toilet, trying to drop the kids off at the pool in peace – when I was suddenly struck by my latest revelation.

I wanted Gabriella to be mine.

I mean, I'd always known it deep down. But something inside of my retarded head just snapped and I knew what I had to do – I had to ask her to be my girlfriend.

WHY could I not have decided this a week ago? _Before_ I vowed that a relationship would not happen?

All thoughts of 'just friendship' were flying out the window quicker than I could flush the toilet, as what I needed to do grew clearer and clearer in my mind.

I was so fixated on my evolving epiphany, I totally forgot that the jeans and boxers around my ankles needed to be pulled up, and next thing I knew I had fallen flat on my face outside the bathroom, and Chad was standing there, laughing at my bare arse.

Good times, my friends, good times.

I scrambled to my feet and looked at Chad dazedly, gripping onto his shoulders.

"Chad!" I said, a hint of awe in my voice accompanying my dumbstruck look. "Chad, I love her!"

Chad frowned slightly and placed a hand against my forehead. "Dude, are you feeling ok?"

"Better than ever," I replied, a dumb grin spreading across my face. "I love her!"

"Huh? Who? What the fuck are you on?"

"Ella..." I murmured dreamily. "I love Ella."

Chad rolled his eyes and shrugged my hands off his shoulders. "Oh, I thought you actually had some _new_ gossip."

"No! You don't understand!" I replied frantically, grabbing Chad's face so he was looking at me. "I love her – I really love her! I'm going to ask her to be my girlfriend!"

"Oh holy fuck, it's about time!" Chad sighed with relief, clapping a hand over his eyes.

My lopsided grin grew even bigger. "I love her, Chad."

"We know you do, Romeo, so why don't you go do something about it – right now."

"Kay..." I sighed happily, releasing Chad from my vice-like grip and heading towards the door to go find Gabriella and make her mind.

"Uhh, dude?" Chad shouted after me. "You might wanna pull your pants up first... Just a suggestion..."

Right.

I finished buckling my belt just in time to throw open the door to my dorm and rush out into the hallway and down the stairs.

I was halfway across the quad when I was struck with my second epiphany of the day – I had no idea what I was doing.

Gabriella at least deserved some forethought, didn't she?

Note: the correct answer is yes.

After years of pining, surely I could pine for a couple more days whilst formulating the best how-to-ask-my-best-friend-out plan ever. Easy. Cinch. Done...Gah.

I turned on my heel with a sigh and trudged dejectedly back towards my building. I hadn't even made it back across the quad when my ears were filled with the sound of what some could possibly have mistaken for a small pony being tortured.

But I would know that scream anywhere.

"Ella?!"

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

And just when I thought my life couldn't possibly suck any further, someone threw Troy into the mix. Now I had to come up with an explanation for why I was screaming my lungs out in the middle of campus. Brilliant timing, Fate. Thanks for that.

"Um, yeah?" I answered at a much more reasonable volume, not turning around to see the 'OMGSHE'SCRAZY' look that he was no doubt utilizing - the one that was normally reserved for Sharpay.

"Why were you screaming like that? Are you alright?"

Nonono, for the last time I am not alright. I won't be alright until Chelsea moves to Outer Mongolia and we release years of pent up sexual tension in a long weekend of 'round the clock orgasms.

"I'm fine," I lied. "Just trying some vocal exercises that Sharpay taught me."

To my astonishment, as I was expecting a much more incredulous reaction, he laughed.

"What's the exercise? See how close you can come to sounding like a water buffalo being strangled?"

Oh, har har.

"No. For your information she was taught this very sophisticated exercise by an extremely important voice coach from... Guatemala."

Guatemala? What the fuck, Gabriella?

Years of built up trust meant that Troy, luckily for me, didn't second guess this piece of information. He held up his hands in a defensive gesture.

"I'm just sayin', Montez. No need to get snippy."

We stared at each other for a long moment, an awkwardness that I'd never experienced with him snaking in around us. I was nervous because I couldn't stop imagining Chelsea out on a date with the perfect boy before me. It was kind of like jamming shard after shard of jagged glass into my chest. Troy seemed to sense a change in the atmosphere or perhaps the weirdness of my mood - because, to be honest, even I didn't understand exactly how to describe it. To have used the term 'bad mood' would've been to make a savage understatement.

Oh God. He'd started rubbing the back of his neck, something he only did when he was embarrassed, nervous or uncomfortable. Not once had he done it while we were alone together. I'd succeeded in completely wigging him out. As Miss Darbus would say - though maybe with a bit less sarcasm - bravo, brava. Certainly he'd jump at the chance to date a nice, wholesome and _sane _girl like Chelsea. Not a total nutjob like myself. Not someone who arranged their clothing in alphabetical order according to color.

"Hey, Troy?" I questioned timidly. His eyes left his feet in a split second and the power behind them as they met mine was intense.

What had I been about to ask?

Oh, yeah.

"You like Chelsea, right?"

Dear Mouth, any time you feel like sealing permanently is fine with me. Love, Gabriella. Ps - Unless Troy ever wishes to kiss you, at which point you will promptly re-open.

My question threw him - not surprisingly, since it came virtually from nowhere or so it would have seemed to him - and his face shifted into that endearing lost puppy look. You know, the one that was so cute that when I tutored him I used to ask him obnoxiously difficult calculus questions (that may or may not have been included in the high school curriculum) in order to see him make it.

"She's pretty cool, I guess," he replied slowly, unsure of where I was going with the interrogation.

I was heartened by his less then animated reaction. Did that make me a bad person?

Naaah. I was here first.

But then there was that nagging vow I'd taken in the coffee shop... Seriously; I needed to remedy that inability to control what I was saying, even if what I was saying was more appropriate then my actual thoughts.

"But you think she's attractive, don't you?"

No is always an acceptable answer. You could even say that she looks like The Kraken... or Elvira from Loony Tunes. I wonder if Chelsea likes animals...

Troy regarded me with wary eyes.

"Is this a trick question?" he asked carefully.

Oh, I'd taught the (sexy) boy well - always be cautious when quizzed on females and their appearance.

"Do you?" I urged, oddly eager to hear his answer though I knew it could potentially ruin my day. Hell, it might just have ruined my entire week.

His hand snapped quickly to the back of his neck again. Was he embarrassed because he thought she was a babe and didn't want to say so, or was he uncomfortable because he was well aware that saying my roomate was homely was a slap-able offense?

"She's, erm... pretty?"

It was the truth but _damn_. Not one reference to a Loony Tunes character with which I could patch up my deflating self-confidence.

"She has very nice hair," I commented off-hand.

I'd said that out loud. Had someone been slipping me drugs?

Blinking his baby blues owlishly, Troy nodded.

"It's very... blond."

The encounter had become like a weirdo children's cartoon that only an independent station in the Arctic Circle would pick up. Arctic Television is proud to present - _Mr. and Mrs. States-The-Obvious_, starring Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez!

I'd never found it so hard to talk to him in all the time we'd known one another. My brain was even more jumbled then the time in senior year when I almost asked him to the Homecoming Dance... but ended up puking on him instead. Not the brightest star in my milkyway of memories.

"That too," I agreed, for lack of anything else to say.

"What's with the survey, Ella?" he wondered aloud.

Because I was wondering if you'd miss her if she ended up in a crate headed for Neptune.

"No reason. She was just asking me about you is all."

I could not _believe_ I'd started doing that super annoying thing you send all your girlfriends to do when you like a guy. That thing where you drop loads of hints just to see how miffed the guy will get when you won't tell them straight out how your friend feels about them.

I was Chelsea's fucking wingman!

So wrong on so many levels.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

So Chelsea was asking about me, huh? I couldn't help but feel a _teensy_ bit flattered. I mean, she was no Ella, but there was no denying the girl was hot.

"Troy?"

"Huh?" the image of hot women throwing themselves at me suddenly shattered as I snapped back to the hot woman in front of me.

Although hot may have been a bit of an understatement. Gabriella was more than that – she was beautiful both inside and out, and...Holy crap I was supposed to be on a mission to ask her out.

"Holy freak out, batman!"

"Batman?" Gabriella asked, miffed.

Fuck, did I really say that out loud?

I did, didn't I?

"Uh...I meant, uh..." maaaan oh man – this was definitely one of those moments where you wished life had a rewind button. In fact, the whole conversation that had taken place over the past 15 minutes had been one of the most – actually scrap that – it had been THE most awkward exchange that had ever taken place between Ella and I.

Oh. Shit.

She knows – she so knows!

Chad. I bet Chad like, phoned ahead and told her I was on my way to propose. I mean ask her out.

I wrung my hands nervously. My palms were actually sweating. This was bad. This was really bad.

"Troy?" Gabriella frowned. "Uh...are you alright?"

"Who, me? What? Yeah! 'Course! I'm great! Never better! Anyway, it's been great chatting, but I've really gotta fly. I left the...err...kettle on."

Kettle? Nice one Bolton. Pretty sure you don't even own a kettle right now. Pretty sure Gabriella was present when Chad blew up your old one last semester, and pretty sure she _knows_ you haven't bought a new one yet.

"Um...okay?" it was more like a question than a reply.

As hard as I tried to avoid her questioning gaze, I couldn't help but allow my eyes to flicker to her face. Her confused expression was adorable. I have to admit to purposely confusing her on more than one occasion just to see her pull that face.

"Yeah, so, uh...catch ya!" I said quickly, patting Ella's arm awkwardly before backing away, turning on my heel, and sprinting back towards my building – resisting the urge to look back over my shoulder for one more glance at that puppy dog look that I just _knew_ was still gracing her face.

"CHAD DANFORTH!!" I yelled at the top of my lungs as I slammed the door behind me. When he didn't respond, I tore my way through the place – determined to hunt him down.

"WHAT THE FUCK DUDE?!" Chad screeched as I flung open his bedroom door, finding him and Taylor practically naked on his bed. I didn't even bat an eyelid as I started on my tirade.

"WHAT did you say to Gabriella?" I seethed, before glancing at Taylor, who was trying in vain to preserve her modesty, whilst also looking slightly concerned for my sanity. "Hey Tay," I said coolly.

"Uh...hey..."

"Have you COMPLETELY lost your mind? Dude - it's called knocking!"

"What did you say to Ella, man?" I repeated, sounding much more desperate than I intended.

"'Scuse us for a minute, babe," Chad looked at Taylor apologetically, before pulling some jeans over his semi-removed boxers and ushering me into our kitchen. "Ok, what the fuck sort of drugs are you on today? First I find you flashing your scrawny ass at me in the hallway, before you run off jabbering on about Gabriella and epiphanies. Now – not fifteen minutes later - you come screaming in here asking what _I_ said to her! When exactly am I supposed to have spoken to her and what am I supposed to have said?"

Suddenly, the scenario of Chad going all 007 on me and passing on secret inside information to the prospective victim so she had enough time to grab her most valuable belongings and jump on the next flight to the deepest darkest center of Iceland – which I was so sure had occurred – didn't seem so likely.

"So uh...you haven't spoken to her, huh?"

"No, not since the picnic."

"Oh. Well. Uh...I guess...I guess you should just err...go back to, uh...whatever it is you were, uh, doing. Yeah...um...be safe, man," I clapped him on the shoulder as I pushed past him, leaving him standing alone and shirtless in the kitchen, more confused – and dare I say freaked out - than ever.

I slipped out of the dorm building and gulped in a lungful of fresh air as my head and heart began to pound.

Chad hadn't made things awkward between Ella and I after all. Seems I had managed to stuff that shit up all on my own.

* * *

**Aaaand another chapter draws to a close. Let us know what you thought!**

**UP NEXT: Gabriella gets into trouble and Troy has a **_**tragic**_** accident!**

**Until then,**

**Jessa and Kylie xox**


	6. BlackandBlue Bolton

**Aloha all! Well, we have good news and bad news. The good news is, here is a new chapter! The bad news is regarding the reason it took so long. You see, Jessa's laptop...well, it died. This is an incredibly tragic and grief filled time for the both of us (sob sob sniff). We had this chapter written before it died, but held out on posting it for as long as we could, hoping her computer would be revived and we could get our next chapter done before posting this one. **

**Alas.**

**Her computer is still dead.**

**So, we will give you this chapter now and then sit tight and wait until the time we can write the chapter which will follow. It may be a while to wait but we really hope you will all stick by us and return to read when Jessa's computer problems are resolved!**

**Grief-strickenly yours,**

**Team KJ aka Kylie and Jessa McLappyless**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Black-and-Blue Bolton**

When I slept through my alarm on Monday morning – effectively missing my first class and finding myself rushing towards my second a half hour after it had started, makeup-less and with un-brushed hair that would have given Chad's a good run for its money in a Best 'Fro competition – I had a feeling it was going to be a bad day.

When I attempted to slip unnoticed into the classroom, only to trip over my own feet, bash my knee on the corner of Kelly Soretti's desk, curse much louder and much more inappropriately than my seven hundred year old professor could handle, hop around yelping and clutching my bright red knee, then drop my book bag, get my foot tangled in the shoulder strap, and fall flat on my face in front of my entire English Literature class...I _knew _it was going to be a bad day.

Oh, and the fact that English Lit was the one class I shared with the blond she-devil who was out to steal my future husband was just like pouring salt directly onto an open, weeping gash in my already bleeding heart.

Oh for fuck's sake, Gabriella, stop being so dramatic and pick yourself up off the classroom floor before the purple floral granny panties you had to dig out of the bottom of your underwear drawer this morning - because you have spent so much time wallowing in self-pity over the weekend that you have done absolutely no washing and therefore have nothing else clean to wear – end up on YouTube, courtesy of creepy Neville Francis and his infamous camera phone.

"Miss Montez! Would you _please_ get up off the floor, find your seat, and _try_ not to disrupt my class any further! I would have expected better from you. Oh for goodness sake Mr Francis – put that phone away!"

Oh snap.

Feel free to search "Gabriella + klutz + daggy knickers + retard" on YouTube in about an hour's time for some cheap laughs.

Gathering up my books and blowing my mop of a frizzy excuse for hair out of my eyes, I muttered an apology to Mrs Grandma-to-the-Dinosaurs before sliding into my seat. Which happened to be right next to my favourite scarlet woman in the entire world.

I love my life.

"Hey, where have you been? I was starting to worry," Chelsea whispered.

"Dysfunctional alarm clock," I mumbled in reply. Yeah. Dysfunctional like my life.

"Oh...right. Anyway, I bumped into Troy on my way to class..."

Great. Not only did I miss one and a half classes, I also missed a chance to chat to (read: perve on) The Hotness that is Troy Bolton. I found myself slipping into Droolsville, despite the fact that I was supposed to be channelling my energy into asking said Hotness out for Villainous Blond Roommate. The thought made me slide down in my chair just a little bit further.

Why couldn't Chelsea have just had a face that bore any resemblance to the rear end of a donkey – if she did, at least I would not be facing these endless days of depression right now. I mean...Troy would pick me over a donkey butt any day. Wouldn't he? I think he would...at least, I'm pretty sure...

"...Yeah, I was telling him about how I spoke to Vanessa Bryant again last night, and Kobe's gonna put together an awesome pack of different Lakers things and put in the post this afternoon – all autographed! Worth an absolute fortune."

Cue further slippage down in my chair. Any lower and my chin would be touching my desk.

"Next time I speak to Vanessa, I should put Kobe on the phone to Troy – that would really make his day!"

Chin. Desk.

"I can just imagine his eyes lighting up – gosh, have you ever noticed how blue his eyes are?" Chelsea propped her chin on her hand, and stared off into space, emitting a dreamy sigh.

My defences kicked in and I sat bolt upright. What do you think, woman? I've been _best friends_ with Hotty McHotstuff for three years – count em, biatch – and never once noticed the fact that his eyes are so crystal blue that sometimes it's almost like you could dive straight into them?

If my pen somehow managed to – hypothetically – find its way up Chelsea's left nostril and, err, accidently scramble her brains... Would that be counted as murder?

"Miss Montez? ...Miss Montez?"

Sheesh, would this Montez idiot just answer Mrs Should-be-Extinct so she shuts up already!

"MISS MONTEZ?!"

Oh. Montez. Right.

"Uh...yes Ma'am?"

"I said – can you name one metaphysical poet from the 17th century?"

17th century...aaaaah, YOU?

"Get out of my class."

Did I say that out loud? Cause something about the look on Mrs Prehistoric's face is telling me I did.

A nudge in the ribs from Chelsea confirmed it.

Hurriedly grabbing my book, pens and bag, I scampered from the classroom with my tail between my legs. Well...if I had a tail, that's where it would have been, anyhow.

I plonked down on a bench across from the room – I had some serious apologising (read: grovelling) to do to Mrs Archaeological-Remains once class let out...I figured I might as well hang around.

I'd just pulled out a textbook to read, when a pair of oh-too-familiar voices floated down the corridor.

"Dude, you just gotta ask her already."

Ask who what, Chad? What is Troy asking and who is he asking it to? Chelsea, I bet. Oh dear god, he's going to ask Chelsea out. All my stupid questions on the weekend made him realise how madly in love with her he is, and now he wants to whisk her off into the sunset. Or to Vegas. Whichever comes first.

"But...oh, hey Ella!" Troy exclaimed in surprise, caught off guard as they he and his fuzz-head of a best buddy rounded the corner.

I hate the world.

"Gabs! What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be in class?"

Ten points, Sherlock.

"Uh, yeah...I got kicked out."

"WHAT?!" the boys choked simultaneously, like some retarded chorus of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

I shrugged, embarrassed. I could feel my cheeks turning bright red. I stared at my feet as my face burned – I couldn't look Troy in the eye, for fear of what I would see there. Lust for Chelsea being the main concern, just in case you needed some help figuring that out.

You would think – given my perfect academic record, and full scholarship to U of A – that my main emotion right now would be feeling mortified that I got kicked out of class for the first time ever. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I probably was. But at the front of my brain – the section that was clearest right now – all I could see was the same image I had been seeing since Saturday: little Troy's and Chelsea's, happily skipping around, swinging their hands and throwing roses to their adoring fans.

Chad's phone started to ring and he looked at me apologetically before ducking around the corner to take the call.

That left Troy and I. Alone.

Did I mention ALONE?

"So, uh...kicked out of class, huh? That's not like you, Ella."

Great. He thought I was a rebel. I was totally just pushing him into Chelsea's arms.

Well, technically that was what I was supposed to be doing...doesn't mean I had to like it, though.

"Yeah...I, uh...I guess I'm just not really with it today..." I trailed off, the awkward tension between us reaching an all time high.

Somewhere beneath the wall of awkward, a flitter of the Old Troy cracked through, and his brow creased in concern.

"Is everything...alright?"

Yes, everything is dandy. I'm head over heels in love with you, yet my drop-dead gorgeous roommate wants you all for herself. And somehow, I was momentarily possessed by the good deeds fairy and agreed to help her win you over. So of course, Mr McDreamy - everything is just GREAT!

"Yeah, I just...didn't get much sleep last night I guess... Indigestion, y'know..."

Sexyyyy.

"Right, well...uh..."

"That was Frankie," Chad announced, reappearing in the hall. "Team wants to get together 15 minutes early to run over the plays we worked on last week. We need to get a move on, man."

"Ok, well...See you 'round, Gabs. Try some Pepto or...y'know, something..." Troy trailed off before making a hasty exit right on Chad's heels.

Way to scare off the already freaked out guy, Gabriella. And they call you a genius.

I flopped back down on the bench with a sigh, rubbing my chest – right over my heart. It was aching like hell, and I was pretty sure it had nothing to do with indigestion.

Looking at my watch, I realised I only had 20 minutes to come up with the best way to make it up to Mrs Mother-of-a-Triceratops.

I wonder if she likes cookies?

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

"She knows, Chad. Holy fuck, she knows!"

Chad looked for all the world like he wanted to suffocate himself inside his putrid gym bag but he replied none the less.

"How could she possibly know?"

I bounced one of the basketballs we used for practice frantically, silently pleading with the heavens to let it work its usual therapeutic magic. I guess the heavens were on holiday or something.

"What if she has ESP or something? It would explain why she's never gotten an answer wrong on a test – she can just pick 'em right out of the teacher's head!" I cried.

So I was grasping at straws. Sue me.

Chad glanced at me sideways. "Are you high?"

"I wish," I moaned. "Then I could chalk this whole thing up to some freaky hallucination and call it a day."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did I just hear someone talking about getting high at my practice?"

Oh crappp.

"No coach," mumbled Chad and I in unison, looking appropriately ashamed.

"Good! Let's keep it that way. Now get your pansy asses into the game!" he hollered back at us.

"Yes coach," we responded, again simultaneously so as to avoid further yelling.

Believe me, after that I really tried to concentrate and it almost worked!

For like six whole seconds.

"She can totally read minds, dude. Why else would she be acting so weird around me? She read my mind and it totally creeped her out."

For once, Chad chimed in as the voice of reason.

"No offense, man," he said as he passed the ball down the line. "But if she could actually read your mind, I imagine she would have gotten freaked out loooong before now."

Hmmm. Valid point. So icksnay on the mind reading… ay.

"How would you explain it then?" I asked, sounding -- even to my own ears – pathetically desperate.

I was asking Chad for insight on girls… I don't even think desperate is a strong enough word.

He rolled his eyes while I whizzed the ball at him, keeping up with the training exercise the coach had us running without much thought.

"I dunno. Maybe she has the hots for you and wants to tell you but is afraid of rejection and losing the friendship you have. Maybe she obsesses about it every fucking second of every fucking day and drives her best friend mental."

Looking back, I probably should've picked up on the heavy mocking going down but I honestly wasn't paying an abundance of attention at the time.

"Nah, that couldn't be it," I answered distantly.

"Okay boys!" the coach bellowed suddenly, causing me to fumble with the ball I'd just caught. The bastard had been right beside me and I'm pretty sure my dad's team could have heard him half a town away in the East High gym. To this day, I'm still positive that my ear bled a little bit. "Scrimmage time! You know the teams – let's go!"

The thing about Coach Gregory was, when he made an order, you followed it. Girl trouble was not an acceptable excuse for lollygagging. I'm fairly certain he didn't consider broken limbs or flesh-eating diseases acceptable excuses either.

"Bolton! Get your head out of your ass!" he barked at me a little while later. I don't know how long exactly…

I swear I'd been paying full attention and not wandering the court aimlessly while my teammates struggled without anyone on offense, reliving mine and Ella's latest conversation over and over.

Had I actually suggested she try Pepto Bismol?

Jesus… I really had. Way to end on a high note, idiot.

"Troy! Watch o—"

You ever hear the sound of your nose crunching against the rest of your face when it's hit straight on by a basketball? It's not exactly a picnic. It is, however, fantastically bloody and excruciatingly painful. As if I hadn't humiliated myself enough for one day already.

I felt like one of those old cartoons with the coyote where he gets hit on the head with some crazy contraption and then birds fly around him in a circle, twittering like crazy. My vision was a little fuzzy but when I opened my eyes, I could just make out Chad and the coach looming over me.

Chad looked like he was on the brink of hysterical laughter.

The coach looked thoroughly irritated.

No one seemed overly concerned that my nose was potentially broken which could very well have left me horribly disfigured.

A low groan passed from my lips as I blinked a few times, trying to clear the stars from my field of vision.

"Great trick, captain. Catching the ball with your face," Chad taunted, smirking in a way that made me wish my head would stop spinning so I could get up and shove the fucking basketball down his throat.

Coach Gregory looked to Chad imploringly.

"Gabriella?" he asked simply.

What the hell?

Since when did the coach know every detail of my personal life?

"Bingo," confirmed Chad.

Oh, this is frigging perfect. Even the crotchety old jerk who makes me run laps until I throw up knows how sadly obsessed I am with Ella.

"I swear, Bolton," Coach Gregory grumbled while he – none to gently – pulled me up by one flailing arm. "If you don't ask that girl out soon, I'll track her down and do it my damn self."

How romantic.

Please God, never EVER let him cross paths with Gabriella. I'm willing to offer up my immortal soul… and one of my mom's homemade chicken potpies. They have all white meat, dude! It's a once in a lifetime opportunity.

But in all seriousness – when a guy who's idea of a hot date is a bucket of fried chicken and a Lakers game is bitching about your love life, it's time to take definitive action.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

"So he's standing in front of me – looking fucking sexy as usual, by the way – and all I could think about – besides how sexy he looked – was him and Chelsea together. Her hands all over him. Her ki...ki...urgh, I can't even bring myself to say it! And it was so awkward! My god, Tay – it was SO awkward. And I mean it's not like he knows what's going down with Chelsea...I mean, I don't think he does – like, how could he? - but I just totally freaked him out with all those STUPID questions the other day, and ever since then he can barely look me in the eye! I can't take it anymore, Tay! All other feelings aside, he's my best friend and I can't lose the relationship we have. And I mean I don't know if it would get that far, because I like to think Troy and I are stronger than that, but you never know, right? Like, one day you could be as close as close and then the next day your stupid, nosey, interfering...charming, lovely, gorgeous blond bombshell of a roommate has just thrown your world into a spin and suddenly things are just as awkward as hell between you and when you see each other it feels like four walls are closing in and my heart is pounding in my ears and I can't even find my voice because I'm scared of what I'll say, and..." the tears were falling freely now, rivers of pure emotion cutting through my constant ramble. "I wonder how long it would take to die under this," I speculated aloud, grabbing Taylor's pillow from behind my head and holding it tight over my face.

Taylor sighed and pulled the pillow out of my grasp, tossing it on the floor.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Trying to kill myself," I replied, my expression deadpan.

Taylor rolled her eyes. Sometimes I genuinely wonder why that girl bothers with me. Like seriously – I can be _such_ a lost cause...it's a miracle she hasn't run screaming for the hills. Although I guess I could say the same for Troy, and he's still sticking around. Well, barely. But that's beside the point. Taylor had had to put up with over three years of my moaning about my feelings for Troy.

That's more than 36 months.

Over 156 weeks.

More than 1095 days.

26280 hours...

Holy bejeebus...I hope Taylor doesn't do THAT math any time soon. She might realise that she should have ditched me 1576800 minutes ago. Give or take a few.

"Gabriella, we've been like sisters for over three years, right?"

Dear Jesus, the girl is a mind reader.

"Uh huh..." I answered cautiously.

"And I'd like to think that our relationship is one in which we can tell each other the truth without having the other person take offence."

I wasn't sure if I liked where this was heading, to be honest.

"Uh huh..."

"So you wouldn't take offence if I told you that you needed to pull your head of your ass, nix the good Samaritan act, and do what YOU want for a change. You've been head over heels for Troy for as long as I can remember. You've got to tell Chelsea the truth about how you feel, before it's too late."

Damn that girl and her infinite wisdom.

"But what if Troy doesn't..."

"Feel the same way? You don't want to wreck the friendship? I know," Taylor rolled her eyes. Day-um, she's good! "But did you ever think that maybe – just maybe – he's crazy in love with you too, and wants to tell you but is scared of getting hurt, and also of destroying the friendship you have. Maybe he too obsesses about you every god-damned minute of every god-damned hour and drives his best friend absolutely nuts."

"Did Chad say something to you...?" I couldn't help but pick up on the slightly bitter tone.

"No!" Taylor clapped a hand to her forehead. "It's just obvious that..."

"One sec," I said with an apologetic look. Her not-so-subtle emotional abuse could wait while I took a phone call. "Hello?"

"Hey Gabi!"

Oh no. It was _HER_.

"Hey Chelsea, what's up?"

Taylor's eyes widened and suddenly began thrashing around wildly, her arms flailing and her facial expressions changing with each jerk of her body. My first instinct was to drop the phone and either start CPR or slap her around the face. I stopped myself, however, when I realised she was trying to convey some sort of message to me wordlessly, through this semi-retarded looking charade.

I cocked my head, a questioning expression on my face as Taylor continued her desperate mime. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head, trying to tell her I didn't understand. She smacked her forehead in frustration as I turned my back on her and my attention to the phone call from hell.

"Sorry Chelsea, the line...uh...crackled. What did you say?"

"Oh...no problem. I was just uh...just wondering how everything with Troy was...y'know...going."

She sounded nervous, but I could just about envision the excited twinkle in her eye as she spoke Troy's name. A feeling of dread dropped into the pit of my stomach as I realised I could visualise it so easily because it was the same look I got in my eye whenever I so much as thought of him.

I swallowed and took a deep breath, before pulling my most cheerful voice from somewhere beneath the depths of my breaking heart.

"Everything is going great, Chels. I really think you have a chance with him."

I think I just died a little more inside. I wonder if it is possible for someone's heart to just shatter, over and over, until every ounce of their happiness is destroyed and they are just this walking shell with no light coming from inside, no reason for them to wake up every day and no reason for them to smile – ever, ever again.

Fuck, I really need to spend less time with Shar.

Chelsea's excited squeal finally stopped shattering my right eardrum long enough for her to shriek out a "thankyou soooo much, Gabi – I owe you big time!" before she bid me a giggly farewell, and the line went dead.

Is it possible to pay someone back by replacing their eternally destroyed soul? Doubt it.

I had only just shoved my phone back in my pocket when it started ringing again. Pulling it out with a frustrated scream, I didn't even check the caller ID before throwing it against the wall, where it hit with a satisfying _crack_.

Taylor looked at me like I had grown an extra head and opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again when _her_ cell phone began to ring. She held up a finger as if telling me that this wasn't over and not to move because I would be copping a full on Taylor-rant in a few moments.

Geez, I could hardly wait.

I picked at my fingernails as she flipped open her cell and answered.

"Hello? Yeah she's here with me. Yeah, don't even get me started... Why? What's happened? Oh...shit, is he ok?"

It was at this point in the conversation that my ears pricked up. From the sounds of things, it was Chad on the other end of the call, and if I was correct about that then I could only assume that something had happened to...

"Yeah of course. I can imagine. Uh huh – she'll be right over."

Troy.

Taylor closed her phone and set it down. "Gabs, that was Chad. Troy had a bit of an accident at training today. He's ok – just a bit sore and sorry for himself - but Chad thinks it would be a good idea if you went over there for a bit."

Worry clouded my mind. What had happened? Was he really ok? How bad was it? But then I remembered how stilted and forced the conversation had been earlier in the day and – for the first time in my life, where Troy was concerned – I hesitated. Taylor picked up on it right away.

"Gabriella Montez," she chided. "Whatever situation you may have gotten yourself into aside, your best friend needs you right now. Go!"

She was right, of course. In that split second, all thoughts of any prior awkwardness between Troy and I disappeared. Without any further thought I sprang into action, grabbing my things and heading towards the door. Taylor hugged me quickly before smirking.

"Besides...I'm pretty sure that the sight of _Chad_ in a nurse's outfit would only hinder Troy's recovery..."

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

"You did WHAT!?"

How could Chad have done that to me?

Ella couldn't see me all bruised and… dented. I looked like I'd just gotten my ass beaten by Edward Norton in Fight Club!

"I think the poor girl was a little annoyed that you didn't call her yourself," he told me.

Oh no. Not only did my face resemble a balloon, but also Ella was mad and would soon be on our doorstep. Did Chad want to see me suffer?

"If I didn't know any better," I sulked. "I'd think you were enjoying this…"

"Hell yeah I am! I'm already imagining telling yours and Gabi's grandkids about these shenanigans! Everyone thought Troy Bolton was the master of the basketball," he recited, pitching his words so he sounded identical to the dude who does the voiceovers for movie previews. "Until one day…" Dramatic pause. "The basketball fought back!"

Instead of calling him a crude name like I was itching to do, I just flung one of the pillows from my bed at him. It whipped through the air, whacking him right in the face. Regrettably, he was fine and it only seemed to lift his spirits more.

"Awww, what's the matter? Black-and-Blue-Bolton can't take a joke?" he gloated gleefully.

Is murder always a crime?

Surely they would make an exception in this case if I should so happen to take out my punk ass best friend in the heat of the moment. Hell, it would almost be a public service. Bad jokes and unfortunate timing in Albuquerque would nosedive.

A knock – well, more like an incessant pounding – on the door interrupted his happy musings. The racket being made; it had to be Ella.

Either that or the Incredible Hulk.

Covering the lower half of my face with my other pillow, I foolishly hoped it was the latter.

"Open this door right this minute, Danforth!"

Damn it all.

"I hate you," I informed Chad with a scowl that was obstructed by the pillow.

He simply rolled his eyes to the ceiling and yanked the door open before Gabriella decided to kick it in.

"OhmyGod!" she exclaimed when she spotted me on my bed. To my delight, she pushed past Chad – whose back hit the open door with ample force – and lunged into place beside me. "Let me see," she commanded gently.

"No way," I mumbled, clutching the pillow in an iron grip to my nose.

"Troy! Come on!"

Nuh uh! Don't pull the eyes.

Fuck, she pulled the eyes.

As I sighed in resignation, I let her pull the barricade hiding my grotesque face from the world away, wincing when she gasped at the sight of me.

I knew it!

I looked like a hideous troll who would be banished by the U.S. government and order to live under a bridge for eternity and then Ella would marry Bruce Wayne and live happily ever after in his huge mansion until I became so consumed with resentment that I would go on a mad killing spree and then Batman (aka Bruce Wayne aka The Awful Ella Thief) would be called to come and take me out!

Hmmm, I wonder if I could convince Ella to dress up as Catwoman for Halloween this year…

Note to self: Thinking of Ella in conjunction with Batman is a big no-no as it is bound to turn you on and may result in a completely embarrassing dilemma.

"Oh, my poor baby," Gabi cooed, cradling my face between her tiny hands so she could examine the damage. Her face was only inches from mine… oh, the humanity.

It was literally a chore not to lean forward and press my lips to hers. It was similar to someone putting a huge juicy steak in front of you and saying you can't eat it… except that you're madly in love with the steak.

I whimpered slightly when Ella gingerly touched the bruised area, making her gasp again.

"I'm sorry," she immediately gushed, somehow managing to touch my nose even more gently the second time around. Honestly, her touch made the pain fade into the background of my mind anyways. "It's not broken," she assured me.

"That's a relief," I breathed.

That meant I wouldn't end up with a perpetually crooked nose. Whew. Maybe there was no bridge or murderous rampage in my future after all.

Too bad, Batman!

Sucker.

"But you should still take it easy. Lay back and relax," Ella ordered, nudging my shoulder until I complied, sinking back into the mattress. "What can I do to help?" she asked as her hand shifted from my shoulder and began running repeatedly through my hair in a soothing motion.

Oh, the endless possible answers to that dangerous question…

I hear a nice having sex really helps with basketball injuries!

Yeah, no way would that shit fly.

Without waiting for any demands, Gabriella flicked on the TV to a Godfather marathon currently running on Bravo Network and proceeded to prop my head up on my pillows, fussing until I was at the perfect height to see the television… and, okay, her chest.

What!?

It was directly in my field of vision through no fault of my own! Not to mention, she was wearing that black scoop-neck shirt that showed the optimum amount of cleavage without looking slutty. A dude only has so much self-control!

In any case, I could tell that Nurse Ella was in the house.

Alll_riiiight_!

Chad, with some major glaring and twitching head motions from me towards the door when Gabi's back was turned, finally took a hint and made himself scarce. I might have had a screwed up nose but I could still own his ass any day of the week.

Now was the perfect time to ask Ella out. She was feeling sorry for me and, who knew, maybe she'd take pity on the patheticness that was Troy Bolton and say yes!

When she handed me a tray laden with a PB&J (No crusts, mostly PB.), a bowl of only red M&Ms (My favorite color which made them taste better. No lie.), and one of those protein shakes that I love but she thinks smell horrible, kissing my cheek as she did so – I knew.

I had to snatch her up and make her mine forever before Bruce Wayne could swoop and steal her.

… Man, I love Batman.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

Is it wrong to take someone's completely vulnerable, hurting, sensitive state and use it to your own advantage?

Well lucky that – where Troy Bolton was concerned – my moral compass seemed to be missing in action.

Was it my problem if I had found that the best way to nurse my (incredibly sexy hunk of a) best friend back to health was to snuggle up beside him with my head resting on his (strong, muscular) chest, and rub my hand soothingly up and down his (sculpted, rock hard) bicep?

Didn't think so.

As the two of us lay in each other's arms - a comfortable silence blanketing us - the awkwardness that had existed between us for the past few days was noticeably absent. We were completely content together. The way I knew deep down we were meant to be.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket and my first thought was to ignore it, but I dug it out anyway, flipping it open and silently marvelling at the fact it was still working after the battering I had given it against Taylor's wall.

As soon as I read the text message, I wished that the phone _had_ shattered against the wall earlier.

_Hey Gabs, just wanted 2 let u know how much I appreciate wat u r doin 4 me. Ur the best :) Chels xx _

I could just ignore the message, couldn't I? Delete it and pretend like I never got it? Feign amnesia and 'forget' that the past few days ever happened? Claim not to remember ever meeting Chelsea?

With a soft sigh and the feeling of a knife piercing my heart, I set my phone down and looked at Troy.

_Dear Moral Compass - In the future, could you please return to me at a more appropriate time. Many thanks, Gabriella._

Troy looked up at me with those big blue eyes and that knife plunged just a little deeper into my heart. There was no doubt in my mind that I loved him. But a promise was a promise. I had to do this now before I completely snapped and ended up tearing his clothes off and having wild hot sex with him right then and there. Either that or I burst into tears. One or the other.

I reached out a shaking hand and slowly ran it through his hair – as if committing the feel of him to my memory one last time, before I turned him over to Brutus. He smiled up at me and covered my hand with his own, closing his eyes and exhaling softly before opening them again.

"Troy, I..."

"Ella, I..."

He smiled again and reached up to brush his fingers across my cheek. Damn him and his magic fingers making this harder than it already was.

"You go first."

Dammnit.

"I...I..." fuck Gabriella, stop stuttering like a nervous idiot and spit it out already!

My mouth chose that exact second to take on a mind of its own once again, and before Troy could even blink I had blurted out the words that had been causing the permanent feeling of nausea I'd been suffering of late.

"IthinkyoushouldaskChelseaonadate..."

* * *

**Oh HAI cliffhanger! Well that's us till Jessa's laptop is fixed! We will keep you posted. Remember to be on the lookout for our next chapter, because we WILL be finishing this! We have to much fun with it to just give up!**

**UP NEXT: How will Troy react?**

**Please remember to leave us some love!**

**Kylie and Jessa xox**


	7. Homnawhat?

**HOLLAAAAAA! The bad news is, Jessa's laptop is still 'sploded. The good news is...by the wonders of hijacking her sister's laptop for brief snatches of fic-typing time, and the wonders of email...we have managed to get chapter seven together!**

**In celebration of Kylie's freaky genius semester results at University (a High Distinction grade average of 93 percent, yo!)...we present to you – Chapter 7!**

**Love,**

**Team KJ (Aka Kylie and Jessa-izzle).**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Homnawhat?**

Homnawhat?

Repeat?

Had Ella just told me to ask Chelsea out? Her roommate Chelsea? Out on a date? With flowers and candy and hand holding and kissing?

Wow.

WOW.

Good thing I'd insisted she go first like a true gentleman or I would've looked like the most enormous cad on the planet. Bad enough my face was mangled -- that sort of severe rejection was likely to kill a guy.

"C-Chelsea?" I stuttered like perhaps the basketball to the face had caused lasting damage after all.

"My roommate, you dolt," Ella snapped. "I... I think you'd make a cute couple."

I was very glad at that point that Gabriella didn't have a clear view of my face because the twisted expression on it was making my nose throb painfully.

Why the fuck was this happening to me?

I had been seconds away from asking a question that had been on the tip of my tongue for three goddamn years! It had taken that long to snowball my courage...

Impaling myself on the sundial in the courtyard seemed like a top notch plan right then. Why would Ella force another girl upon me if she had any interest at all in being more then friends?

She wouldn't.

And I could suddenly feel my heart sink down somewhere beyond my lower intestine... Ew.

"Are you serious?"

Please let this turn out to be some sick and poorly timed joke at my expense. Chad is going to jump out at any minute and laugh his ass off on our dorm room floor while I cry hysterically, right? Right!?

"Of course!" she chirped, shifting into a sitting position next to me, picking at a hole in my bedspread. I swear it didn't have little basketballs on it...

Fuck, I already felt cold without her snuggled into my side. Fucking Chelsea and her fucking existence.

"Um... why?" I croaked out.

My brain wasn't exactly letting me process real thoughts, let alone form them into intelligent commentary.

"You, um, both like basketball and she's a nice girl... with pretty hair," Gabriella replied at length. "Please, Troy? For me?"

Life was so fucking unfair. If anyone else were begging me to date someone who wasn't Ella, I would have chuckled heartily and downright refused. Irony reared its ugly head that day. If there was one person in the whole world whom I couldn't refuse, it was Ella. All she had to do was bat those long eyelashes at me and I'd be on my knees before you could say "Troy Bolton has no balls"... and she fucking knew it too.

When I failed to reply, Gabriella pressed the issue. "Come on, Troy. She knows Kobe Bryant! You could like... double date with him and stuff..."

Okay, lesson number one? A double date is _not_ a way to convince a male to do something. And lesson number two? How shallow did she think I was? Like I would really -- with all my good manners and finesse -- be so easily won over with promises of comradeship with famous... basketball... players... extremely famous and _talented_ basketball players... that you've looked up to since you were five...

Snap out of it, Troy!

I might have pondered the possibility for two whole seconds. I _am_ only human, you know, no matter what crazy shit that girl in my high school Biology class cooked up. She had half the class convinced I was actually some sort of cyborg -- a government experiment gone wrong -- programmed only to play basketball. It took me almost the entire year to figure out why people were constantly staring at me; I was too busy studying Gabriella's luscious body from my seat behind her instead of the notes the teacher wrote on the board. Biology was the memorable class in which I discovered the valuable information that if I tilted my head at just the right angle, I could see her bra through the armhole of her top.

Oh, the crucial things you learn in high school.

"Again I ask the question -- are you serious?"

I simply did not want to acknowledge that this was going down and I could see it was starting to irritate my best friend, her sympathy for my injuries fading with along my hope of things ever going my fucking way.

"And again I say emphatically -- yes," she said snippily.

"So let me get this straight... you want _me_... to go out with _Chelsea_... your roommate... on a _date_?"

The word 'date' passed through my lips like a hideous curse word.

Gabriella shifted then from snippy to downright pissed. "Jesus, Troy! I think that basketball knocked some screws loose in that head of yours!"

It was so not the time to be turned on by her passionate rage but my body didn't really take that into consideration. I'm happy to report that there was only minimal drool, though I wasn't so lucky with the actual staying on track in our conversation.

"Troy? Troy!?" she demanded after a minute of silence.

"Right! Uh... Chelsea..." I said, stalling for time.

There had to be some way out of this? Why did Ella feel the need to beg so insistently on her roommate's behalf? Why did I have to love her so Goddamn much when she could never be mine, at least not in the way I wanted?

Staring into her eyes, which at that precise moment put me in mind of a defenceless little baby deer in the woods that I would be killing if I didn't adhere to her request, I didn't have a prayer. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Anything to make my Ella happy.

"If it's that important to you, El, I'll do it," I said.

I'm not really sure how the sentence managed to leave my mouth without my authorization but there it was, out in the open. I'd given Ella my word and I'd never gone back on my word where she was concerned. Never. The feeling of dread seated deep in my gut told me that I was probably going to regret this more than the time I shaved off Chad's eyebrows the day before prom and Taylor set all my boxer shorts on fire on my front lawn. My mom happened to side with Tay in that little scenario so I had to use my own money to buy new underwear. I'll never fully grasp the female obsession with the prom. It's a fucking _dance_!

"That's... great!" Ella squeaked. "Chelsea will be so excited."

Something was off about her voice, but she rose from the bed to grab me more M&Ms, preventing me from seeing her expression. When she turned around again, a huge smile was plastered in her face. Talk about adding insult to injury. She was actually _happy_ that I would be going on a date with someone else.

I'd never felt more miserable in my entire life.

Except maybe when I accidentally killed Ella's pet goldfish and she didn't speak to me for two weeks, three days and six whole hours...

Naw, this was worse than that.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

Jesus fucking shit fuck holy shitting fucking shit.

There he was, Troy Bolton, laying on the bed in front of me – shirtless and looking like a wounded puppy (albeit one with a swollen purple nose) – and I could no longer formulate a coherent sentence. I had just asked him out for the blonde vixen I liked to call my roommate.

And he had agreed.

Fuck off. He could have at least had the decency to scoff, roll his eyes, and claim that he would never date Chelsea Fitzpatrick in a million years – not if he was force-fed a whole bottle of Tabasco sauce, and she was the last glass of milk on earth.

But stupid Troy and his stupid nice-guy-ness had to go and be all...nice-guy-ey.

Anyway. My work here was done. Chelsea had gotten her wish, Troy was set to run happily off into the sunset, and my life was over.

All in a day's work.

I felt like a bit of a super hero really. That's always the way their lives seemed to go – they fixed everyone else's problems and misfortunes, but never really did anything for themselves. I wonder if Captain Planet ever felt like me – so busy making everyone else's lives great that his love life sucked ass.

Hey maybe I could be Sailor Moon – or one of the Sailor Scouts! The new kid on the sailor-block, who went around matching making everyone but herself.

Wonder what they'd call me? Sailor...Pluto? Yeah, that'd be right. Name me after the planet that isn't even a real planet.

Sailor Non-Planet.

Sailor Loser.

Fail.

Suddenly, the sight of Troy laying there in all his shirtless glory made me wanna hurl. I mean, not in the way that he suddenly developed scabies all over his (semi-naked) body and started to smell like a rotting corpse – no, it was more the fact that this god-like creature was laying there looking up at me with this adorably confused expression while I paced his bedroom, and I wanted him so bad like, in an 'I want to jump your bones right now' fashion, but I knew I couldn't have him. That was the thought that had my stomach churning like a washing machine on spin cycle.

I had to get out of there, and fast.

I stopped pacing, and started fussing about Troy, fluffing his pillows and checking he was comfortable, a fake Barbie-like smile slapped on my face as I did.

"So anyway. Yeah. That's such good news, Troy. I'm so happy for the both of you. It's great. Anyway. I better go and tell Chelsea. She's gonna be ecstatic. I'll get her to call you?"

Troy frowned slightly. "Uh...yeah, I guess – whatever...Ella, what's going on?"

"Nothing!" I squeaked, several octaves higher than I intended. "I just really need to get back to work, ok? I'm glad you're ok, you just get some sleep ok, and I'll...I'll speak to you soon, ok? Ok?! Ok. Good. Great! Ok."

I leaned down to drop a kiss on his forehead – purely out of habit, I swear – and he grabbed my wrist, preventing me from standing upright again. Our faces were mere inches apart, his blue, blue eyes searching mine.

"Stay, Ella," he whispered. "Don't go...please..."

Fuck him and his fucking puppy eyes. I couldn't succumb. I had to escape. I wanted to cry. I couldn't let Troy see me cry.

You know when you were little, and you would have a fall or something at school and bite your lip, brush the dirt off, and get on with it...but then as soon as you saw your mom at the school gate, you'd burst into tears? That's what I was feeling like in that room with Troy...I was in control of my emotions – _just. _I knew as soon as I got out of there, though, the tears would come.

I managed to tear my gaze from his, pulling my arm out of his grasp.

"I have to go, Troy," I managed. "Really. I'll...I'll get Chels to call you and arrange your...date," the word was like poison on my tongue. "Make sure you get Chad to re-freeze that ice pack, and get you a fresh one in another 10 minutes."

"Ok..." Troy said quietly, his eyes downcast as he picked at a loose thread on his blanket.

I patted his shoulder awkwardly. "I'll...see ya."

I grabbed my phone and headed for the door, turning back only when I heard Troy's voice.

"I'll call you later, El...if that...if that's ok?"

I swallowed, those freaking tears threatening to fall even before I got to see my mom waiting at the school gate...or in this case, Taylor and/or Sharpay.

I think I managed to gasp out a half-hearted 'yep' before rushing out the door, bypassing a miffed looking Chad as I exited, hurling myself down the stairs as fast as I could, and bursting out into the fresh air, gulping in lungful after lungful of oxygen as hot tears began to splash down my face.

I was such a fucking girl.

I swatted furiously at my tears, willing them away as I doubled over, clutching at my ribs as I tried to breathe deeply enough to calm myself down. Fuck, talk about dramatic. Pretty sure I was giving Shar a run for her money in the OTT stakes.

"Gabi? Gabi, are you ok, what's wrong?"

Why does the universe hate me? Like, seriously. Could there have been any more of an inconvenient time for Chelsea Fitz-fucking-patrick to walk randomly by?

"I just....stubbed my toe," I improvised, clutching my foot and hopping on the spot for dramatic impact. "Oooouuuuch..."

"On what?" Chelsea frowned.

"Err..Well I tripped and...kicked it on the...dirt...ouch...."

"Right. So anyway...I see you're coming from Troy's dorm..." she trailed off, her eyes shining.

"Yeah. He got hurt at training today. Needed his _best friend_," I replied, sounding snootier than I intended.

"Oh, poor Troy!" Chelsea exclaimed with what sounded like genuine – but it so totally wasn't, I swear – concern. "What happened, is he ok?"

"Mmm. He will be. Some TLC from his _best friend_ and he will be fine."

There it was again. Miss Snooty Cow of the century.

"Oh. Well that's good then...as long as he is ok," Chelsea replied, casting her eyes downwards.

God damn that girl, why did she have to be so sweet and innocent? Le sigh. God damn me, why did I have to be so kind hearted and generous and brilliant and nice? Le double sigh.

"You need to call Troy," I told her simply.

"What? Why? OH!" she finally caught on as I stared pointedly at her. "Oh my gosh, Gabi – _really?!_ Thank you SO much! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh – I don't know how I can ever repay you! Thank you, Gabi! _Thank you!_"

She flung herself at me, hugging me so tight I thought I would explode. Hey, that wasn't such a bad thought...exploding as opposed to living right then.

I wonder what they would have put on my grave stone.

_Here lies Gabriella. She exploded. Haha, Gabriella, haha. _

Or maybe...

_Here lies Gabriella. She exploded after the greatest self-sacrifice known to man._

Ha.

'_Here lies the cynical bitch'_ works as well, really.

I managed to pat Chelsea awkwardly on the back before peeling her from me. She appeared to have frozen on the spot in some dream-like daze. I waved my hand quickly in front of her face and she didn't even flinch. Unable to deal with the fact she was daydreaming about MY boyfriend...I mean _best friend_...I backed away slowly, before taking off at a full speed sprint in the direction of Taylor's room.

Because my best (female) friend was so obviously concerned about my mental state, she wasn't there. Which I ascertained after almost belting down her door, only for her neighbour to come out and not-so-kindly inform me that she had left with Danielle not too long ago.

Well fine then.

I stomped up stairs to Sharpay's room and did my yelling and belting routine until she opened her door.

"What the fuck, Geeks?" she snapped.

I didn't even notice her new nickname-on-the-nickname.

I had found my 'Mom at the school gate.'

I threw myself into her (rather stunned) arms, and burst into tears.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

I knew the fact that I was staring intently at the knife block on the counter of our room was making Chad nervous. Who he thought I meant to stab, I'm not quite sure, but he could easily tell from my expression that I intended for violence to ensue.

"Dude... you're starting to freak me out," he said finally, skirting around me so he could sit on his bed.

I sighed, my eyes never leaving the knives as I wondered just how painful it would be to stab yourself.

"I'm such an idiot."

Chad snickered quietly and replied, "Well, I could have told you that, but what happened with Ella that made _you_ realize this obvious fact?"

Running over the last hour of my life in my head, it felt like I was in a nightmare that I desperately wanted to wake up from. If there had been any chance at all that Ella and I could have had a thing, it was now as obsolete as Paula Abdul.

I winced as I informed him of my insane actions. "I kind of... agreed to go out with her roommate."

His reaction was pretty much exactly what I expected. No longer worried about the sharp knives, he stood up and whacked me across the head. He'd either forgotten about my earlier misfortune with the basketball or was too stunned to care.

"Are you crazy?" he demanded. "Why the_ fuck_ would you _ever_ do that? That makes zero sense. No, that makes negative sense! It is in the negatives of sense!"

I groaned loudly -- a noise of frustration -- and buried my face in my hands. I had to pull them quickly away when the pressure on my mottled nose stung painfully and made my eyes water.

"It was the fucking eyes. They get me every time! Have you ever looked directly into them? I mean, _really _looked? It's dangerous, man!" I vehemently attempted to justify myself.

All my explanation warranted from Chad was a raised eyebrow and cluck of his tongue. The sound of my phone ringing saved me from more fruitless reasoning as I silently thanked whoever it was for saving me from further embarrassment. Things were rough when _Chad_ thought you were an idiot.

"Hello?" I sighed into the receiver. Chad seemed to admit defeat and switched on the TV, returning to the video game he'd been in the process of beating that morning before basketball practice.

"Hi, sweetie!" my mother's voice chimed cheerfully through the phone.

Oh, that's just great.

"Hey, mom..." I murmured into the phone, hoping that for once she wouldn't be able to tell within five seconds that I was way off the reservation of I'm Fine Land.

There was a brief pause and then she said, "What's the matter?"

Fucking mother's intuition.

Now, I'm no Mamma's boy, but as despondent as I was at that moment, I needed much more sympathy then Chad could provide.

"Does it have to do with Gabriella?" she questioned.

How does she always know!? Did she sell her soul for magical powers when I was born?

"Maybe..." I admitted in a small voice.

"What have you done this time?"

So much for sympathy.

"Geez, Mom. Why do you always assume_ I've_ done something wrong? What if it was Gabriella this time?"

She simply laughed. "What did you do?" she repeated.

"I may have agreed to go out with her roommate..." I said, grateful we were in two different places so she couldn't strangle me.

There was an entire minute of silence -- minus Chad's shouts at the television.

"And what on Earth possessed you to do such an idiotic thing like that?"

My mother, with her previously mentioned intuition, had known about my feelings for Gabriella practically before I did. She encouraged me in my pursuit of the girl of my dreams - sometimes I wondered if my mom didn't have a crush on Ella from the way she'd run on about her. It was always Gabriella this and Ella that... between the two of us, my dad was one step away from bribing local law enforcement into putting a fine on using her name.

"Never mind that, tell me how to fix this!" I whined.

"It's not that simple, Troy," she replied.

Judging from the tone she'd adapted, my mother was becoming quickly exasperated with me.

"Come on!" I pushed. "You're a girl! You can't share the secrets of your gender with your own son?"

"No wonder you haven't snagged Gabriella yet," my mom mused. "You're damn near hopeless."

"Why thank you, mother. That's most encouraging. Great parenting skills you've got there," I bit back sarcastically.

"Troy, it's like I've been saying all along -- tell the truth!"

I sucked air in through my clenched teeth, creating a hissing sound. Always with the honesty, that Lucille Bolton. If only she truly understood my difficult position. This matter had to be handled delicately...

Fine. Fine! I was just a pussy. My mom was privy to this fact more so then most people.

"Mom... Ella seemed happy that I agreed to go out with her roommate. Like Valium happy."

A morose sigh passed through my lips as I remembered Gabriella's wide smile. In truth, a part of me was strangely thrilled to be able to make her that happy however, the dominant part of my tiny brain was ruing the day Chelsea decided to apply to U of A.

Because this was clearly all her fault...

And was definitely in no way all _my_ fault.

My mom made a little tsking sound -- so annoying. "Oh, honey. Gabriella is crazy about you. You can tell just by the way she looks at you."

"As a friend!" I exclaimed. I was sick and tired of everyone always pushing! "She's crazy about me as a friend."

"If that's honestly what you think then I really can't help you."

What was the point, pray tell, of being a mother if you refused to coddle your son? Whatever happened to the woman who used to call me Pumpkin and clean my laundry without griping at me for seven million years? Oh, being a kid was so much simpler. Back then chicks didn't have breasts and testosterone laid dormant, waiting to unleash its horrible powers as soon as puberty hit, resulting in lame predicaments like the one I was currently being faced with.

"Oh, darn. I've got to go, sweetie. Lisa Danforth just knocked on the door. I just called to check up on you..." There was an uneasy pause. "Whatever you do, just don't let Chad talk you into trying to duplicate the time machine they build in Back to The Future so you can go back and fix this. You remember what happened last time?"

How could I forget? Dad was almost put away for murder in the first degree when he came home to a wrecked car with his alarm clock, a piece of mom's treadmill and a Snickers bar strapped to the dashboard. Needless to say, Chad and I weren't going to NASA anytime soon. With the groundings we got, we didn't go _anywhere_ soon.

"Mom, we were eleven. I think I have a little more sense than that now," I argued.

"And yet, here you are -- asking your mother for advice on women."

Dammnit, it sucked when she was right.

**HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM**

After letting me cry on her shoulder for all of thirty-five seconds, Sharpay pried me away so that she could spray some Clorox where my tear-stained cheek had been resting on the sleeve of her hot pink Dolce & Gabbana leather jacket before starting her tirade of 'I told you so'.

"Well, I hate to say it but if you'd just let me intervene wh..."

"Interfere," I corrected, only to be ignored by Sharpay.

"If you'd just let me_ intervene_ when I wanted too...oh, two or three years ago...you pair would be having hot sex in the back of his rusty old truck by now."

I couldn't help but wrinkle my nose. "Shar, if I was having hot sex with Troy I'd imagine it would be somewhere much more comfortable – and hygienic – than the back of his truck."

Sharpay placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a sympathetic look. "Honey, beggars can't be choosers."

I groaned in frustration. "Sharpay. Please. This is my hour of need. If ever there was a time for a sympathetic bone to kick in _somewhere_ in your body, it would be now."

"Gabriella. Please. You just asked out your best friend – whom you are desperately in love with – for your room mate – who you have known for all of five minutes. You don't need sympathy. You need a psychiatrist."

"Shar. Hour of need."

"Gabs. Three years of idiocy."

My emotional state obviously couldn't hack the truth. I burst into tears. Again.

Sharpay rolled her eyes and patted me awkwardly on the back.

"It was horrible, Shar," I sobbed. "He's lying there all bruised and confused and fucking adorably sexy and I'm just a hot mess, blabbering on and raving like a lunatic, and I don't even know what was going through his mind....but if he was really opposed he would have just said no, wouldn't he – like, this is Troy – opinionated and stubborn – he would have said no if he really didn't want to go on the date, so...oh god, he must _really_ want to go on the date! Oh god he's secretly in love with her and I didn't even know. This is totally what he's been waiting for!" I wailed, my sob-wracked rambling completely spiralling out of control. "My best friend fell in love with my roommate right under my nose and I didn't even notice!" I cried. "My life is...OUCH, WHAT THE FUCK?!" I exclaimed, clutching my cheek – which was probably already bright red and possibly even swelling.

"Finally she shuts the torn pocket she likes to call a mouth."

"Shar, that _hurt_!" I exclaimed, rubbing my still stinging cheek.

"Yeah, and your fucking ridiculous whining was hurting my ears. Listen. You screwed up. You need to fix it."

I sighed, dabbing at my eyes (which were puffing up faster than could even be provoked by the death scene in Moulin Rouge). "I don't know, Shar. Like I said – Troy could have said no. He _must_ want this date....and I want him to be happy."

"Oh for crying out loud, stop being so fucking noble. Look. Here's the deal. Every time Troy so much as glances sideways at you he looks like he wants to rip your clothes off and do you on the pavement. And don't even try to say you wouldn't go along with it, because you've wanted his babies ever since we met. Now, because there's no way in hell I could tolerate your incessant moaning from now till the rest of eternity, I am going to offer you a suggestion."

Ignoring her sarcasm, I silenced my sniffles to hear her out.

"Ok. Here's what he do. We call the government – the President's direct office line preferably. We tell them Chelsea is a terrorist who plans to attack the White House. It's fool proof. We'll need to plant evidence on her, of course...and maybe even some cocaine while we're at it..." she added thoughtfully.

"Sharpay," I said, completely deadpan. "That would never work."

"True," Sharpay replied distantly. "We'd probably need to stash some marijuana in her underwear too."

"Marijuana in her underwear. Of course. Now why didn't I think of that myself?" I asked sarcastically.

Sharpay sighed. "Well, there's always our back up plan."

"And that is?" I sat up, listening intently – anything was worth a try.

"I could use Daddy's connections and organise a hit man."

Yes, Sharpay.

Because serving twenty to life for being an accessory to murder is _exactly_ what I need right now.

* * *

**Le fin. Stay tuned for The Date. Although with the Lappy McLappyless sitch...we can't promise when that will be! But thanks for sticking by us, you guys are awesome! Thanks so much for all the reviews! Let us know what you thought of this one!**

**Kylie and Jessa xox**


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